The Door in the Tree
by LGP
Summary: Starts after Bloodlines and has gone off the rails into fairly in-character AU. A Sydrian story that's not just about Sydrian. Romance, friendship, humor, magic, dreamwalking, character development, botany, fluff, hand-to-hand fighting, lemons, more magic, and puns. ED trigger warning. Some violence, serious sexytimes. Worth your time! More info at the start of chapter 1.
1. I: Roman Holiday

**So, welcome to my story**.

_**FAQ:**_

_**Why is it rated M?** Because of language and later on, sexytimes. I try to keep it classy and rooted in love, but if you're easily offended, then… sorry. Also, much later, there's some violence that some people might find a little disturbing/scary, depending on the person.  
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_**What is it basically about?** It's about Sydney and Adrian getting to know each other, while Sydney learns more about her own powers and stuff. Sydney and Adrian go places in dreams and banter and have adventures. There's a bit of Jill and Eddie in it, too. There are lots of scenes of Adrian in a towel, which I consider extremely important. There's romance, friendship, humor, adventure, magic, dreamwalking, character development, botany, hand-to-hand fighting, and puns. Also, there are lots of commas and periods._

_**Why should I read it?** Well, it doesn't suck, I'm fairly sure of that. I try to keep everyone in character, so that you can sort of pretend it's canon. Apparently, it's funny enough that it has made a few people laugh, and sad enough that it has made a few people cry. And if you are like me, and Sydrian causes you SO MANY FEELINGS, then why not laugh and cry with us a little?And I'd love it if you gave it a chance. I've been working really hard on it._

_**Why shouldn't I read it?** If you're not up to a rated M story, then maybe give it a skip. As I said, I try to keep it classy, but it's not exactly rated G. Or PG. Or PG-13. Ha! Also, it's really long. Also, there's some stuff about eating disorders in there that might be triggering to people, and a few chapters (clearly marked) that are a bit scary/violent.  
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_**How long is it going to be by the time it's done?**_ _Probably like literally a million words. __I have it all sketched out. I've divided it into four "books". You're about to start Book I (I hope).  
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_**That's too long, dude.** You're telling me! You're only (possibly) reading it. I'm writing the darn thing. But you don't have to read it all at once. You can savor it. Like a 40-year-old port wine.  
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_**Why are you talking about port wine?** You'll see._

_**When is it going to be done?** No clue. I'm just going to keep working on it.  
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_**Why do you keep revising all the chapters and what has changed? **__I can't help it. In the words of Jay-Z, "Can't be scared to fail in search of perfection." I have slowed down some of Sydney's acceptance of things, which in retrospect, seemed a little too fast. I also made her a little less socially awkward, since I had gone overboard with that the first time around. You don't HAVE to re-read the whole thing, because it hasn't changed much, but if you do, or if you're new to the story, I think it's a little better than it used to be.  
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_**What will you do now that TGL has come out?** I guess I'll have to read it or something. At some point. And for now, I guess my story has to be considered AU (Alternate Universe), but hopefully not too OOC (out of character). Of course, as the story goes on, the characters grow/change, so naturally by the later chapters, they might be considered OOC by original standards.  
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_**What is the soundtrack for this story? **__This actually isn't a frequently asked question, but it should be, since for me, the music I listen to when I'm writing really affects the way I write. So here are the key songs I listen to when I write this:_

_-The Lightening Strike Part I, What if this storm ends (Snow Patrol) - especially for chapter 18  
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_-Disparate Youth (Santigold) - key song  
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_-Mercy Street (Peter Gabriel) – especially for the side story with Eddie and Jill_

_-Twice (Little Dragon)_

_-Weather to Fly (Elbow) - especially for chapter 4  
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_-You Know What I Mean (The Cults)_

_-Little Secrets (Passion Pit)_

_-I've Got Your Number (Elbow) _

_-Heartbeat (Childish Gambino) _

_-Not in Love (Crystal Castles ft Robert Smith) _

_-The Golden Floor (Snow Patrol) and Lights (Ellie Goulding) - these were especially for the chapter called "Vigil"  
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_-Met Before (Chairlift) - this is playing in the background of a chapter I haven't published yet  
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_-and from the Battlestar Galactica score, "Something Dark is Coming" and "Roslin and Adama."_

_**Why do you take this so seriously?** Because I'm weird.  
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_**I'm mad at you for not updating frequently enough. I think I'm going to leave nasty reviews and insult you.** First of all, that's not a question, but I'll address it anyway. I guess I'll take it as a compliment that you miss my story that much, and thank you for your kind interest. If you really want me to update constantly, then feel free send me lots of money so I can quit my job and write full time. :)_

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><p><strong>Book I: The Forest and the Door<strong>

**Chapter 1: Roman Holiday**

"Please, Dad," I said. "Just let me talk to her for a minute – "

My father cut me off, his voice clear as a bell through the cell phone connection. "She said she doesn't want to talk to you. Frankly, Sydney, I'm not surprised. You may have fooled the rest of the alchemists into thinking you've gotten back on the straight and narrow, but I know you better than they do. I haven't forgotten what you did and neither has Zoe."

"I know, Dad. I'm working as hard as I can – "

"It's not enough. This conversation is over." He hung up without saying goodbye.

I was so angry that for a moment, I thought about throwing my cell phone through the nearest window, but knew that everyone in the dining hall would probably think I had gone crazy, and it was part of my job not to draw attention to myself. _Pull it together_, I told myself sternly, and walked back to the table where Jill and Eddie were eating dinner. Both of them had been studiously _not_ watching me while I was on the phone. I looked at their meal choices as I slid into my chair. Jill was polishing off a whole plate of pasta, and Eddie was on his second cheeseburger. Something about the number of calories they were consuming seemed to add insult to the injury my dad had just dealt me, and I kept my eyes trained down at the small salad I had chosen, trying not to let the emotion show on my face. _Zoe…._

"Sydney?" Jill said. I had to look up. Her voice was full of concern. "Are you, um, like… ok?"

"I'm fine," I said, but the catch in my voice betrayed me.

"Bull," said Eddie. "That was your dad just now on the phone, right? Don't tell me that the alchemists are on your back still about the whole Rose thing. I thought all that was cleared up."

"Yes, it was my dad," I answered. "But everything's fine with the alchemists. It's just… well, it's hard to explain. Don't worry about it. It's my problem. In fact, it's not a problem at all."

"I'm sure that you can handle anything," Jill said, gently. "And Eddie and I would never pry –" here, she shot Eddie a quelling look – "but it might be easier if you opened up to us a little about it. After all," she said, a bright smile lighting her face, "I'm your 'sister'!"

"My sister?" I murmured, feeling a rising heat shoot through me. This vampire was not my sister! My father has just informed me that my real sister had received her lily tattoo today. All my hard work hadn't saved her from being an alchemist, hadn't saved her from the same burden I had to carry. And to top it off, she still wasn't talking to me. For a moment, I lost control. I spat out the words: "You're not my sister."

A stunned silence from both Jill and Eddie followed. After a moment, Jill spoke up. "I know that. Of course I know that." Her voice was tiny and sad, and I forced myself to look at her. There were tears in her green eyes, and I felt awful. Eddie looked at me reproachfully, as if to say, _Really, Sydney? Really? _

I took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry, Jill. That came out more harshly than I had intended. I just, well, I got some news about my sister just now. So she's on my mind. I guess I just…" The angry look on Eddie's face told me that I wasn't helping my case much with such a lame apology. "That's no excuse, though," I amended. "You were trying to help, and I snapped at you. I'm very sorry."

Jill gave me a faint smile at that, and Eddie's face softened as well. Apparently, I was getting a little better at this interpersonal stuff. "Its ok," said Jill. "I hope your sister is ok too. I understand if you don't want to talk about it, but if you want to..." She trailed off.

I couldn't handle all the care and concern coming from her right now. I had to get out of there. "Thanks, Jill," I said. "I'll... think about it. But, anyway, I think I'm not very hungry. I'm going to go up to my room to study."

"Oh," said Jill, meekly. "I was hoping you and I could maybe study at the library together after dinner." I knew she needed the company. She was still getting over what happened with Lee. Plus, she probably was trying to avoid Angeline, who was being punished for yet another fight by being restricted to her room – their room. That meant that poor Jill was being punished for Angeline's violent nature, too.

"I'm sorry," I said again, and her sweet acceptance of my apology reminded of how things used to be with Zoe, so much so that I felt an awful tightness in my throat again. "Maybe tomorrow," I added, and I was fairly certain that both Eddie and Jill had heard the catch in my voice. I said goodnight to both of them, cleared off my plate, and went up to my dorm room.

Alone at last, I sat down on my bed with some of my textbooks, but I was hardly in the mood to study. All I could think about was Zoe with a golden tattoo on her cheek. She was probably packing her things right now, about to go off on an assignment that she was in no way prepared for. She didn't know it, but she was letting go of every freedom a person had, before she had even had a chance to enjoy it. No college, no fun, no being a normal teenager – no _life._ She would end up doing an internship someplace as awful as Russia. And she wouldn't have me to lean on, because she still thought of me as the enemy. The tears welled up in my eyes again, and I made an attempt to check them. _I don't cry, _I said to myself. _I'm not some weepy girl. I'm a professional, and I have a job to do. _And right now part of my job was passing myself off as a high school student, which meant homework. I finally chose to read an extra chapter in my history textbook, reasoning that studying my favorite subject would get my mind off things, and that it couldn't hurt to be a little ahead in one subject. It would make it easier to catch up on other things later.

Oddly enough, studying really did make me feel better. I had to force my thoughts into more productive channels, and that was good for me. I was just finishing the chapter and looking over my notes when I heard my cell phone vibrate from the nightstand. I looked over, automatically bracing myself for another lecture from my dad, and all my muscles relaxed when I recognized Adrian's number. I felt a smile come to my lips, but decided that the morning would be a better time to deal with whatever annoying thing he was calling about. Maybe he wanted cable installed in his apartment, or a new cell phone plan. Or maybe he was just making up some pretense to bother me because he was bored. He had been doing that an awful lot lately. Whatever his issue was this time, I would handle it in the morning. For right now, I decided to get ready for bed and hoped that things would seem better in the morning.

I had expected to toss and turn for hours, but thankfully a combination of a long volleyball practice and an early morning self-defense training session with Eddie had left my body almost as worn out as my mind. I soon fell into a deep sleep…. and found myself in the middle of an incredibly realistic dream.

I was in Rome, the modern city, standing just outside the famous ancient Coliseum. It was a warm summer day, with just a few small, fluffy clouds in the bright blue sky. No one else was there – no cars, no people. There were also no ticket takers at the door of the Coliseum. I took a step forward, oddly hesitant to walk over to the gateway and go inside the ancient building. I looked down and saw I was still wearing my pajamas. _That's not righ_t, I thought, and tried to think of what would be a better outfit for the occasion. In a moment, I looked back down and saw that I was wearing a white linen tank dress and lace up gladiator style sandals, along with my usual small gold cross necklace. The dress skimmed my body, flattering it in way that was nice-looking but not too flashy. The sandals, with their criss-cross straps, were much sexier than anything I'd normally wear. I thought I'd feel self-conscious about it, but no one was around, and the style really was perfect to wear in an ancient gladiator stadium.

I walked the short way to the entrance of the Coliseum. In real life, there would probably be people lined up outside such a famous attraction, waiting for hours to get in, but in this dream, I could step right through one of the ancient doors and stroll through the stony, shaded hallways. I smiled, feeling a happiness bubble through me like sap rising in a tree.

For a dream, it felt amazingly real. I heard my footsteps on the pavement and smelled the damp, slightly mossy stonework. I shivered at the cool air in the dark tunnels, and basked in the warm light when I came to sections that were exposed to the sun. I walked up stairs, through archways, around corners. Some areas were roped off, but I ducked under the ropes to peek around everywhere. It should have been spooky to be here without any other people, but it wasn't. I loved it. I had the Coliseum all to myself!

Or did I? For a moment as I rounded a corner, I felt that almost indefinable feeling of being watched. I felt someone watching me, but when I turned around there was no one there. "Probably a ghost," I said out loud, surprised at the sound of my voice in the hallway, then laughed at my own silliness. But did ghosts smell like expensive cologne? Or was I imagining that, too?

Shaking the feeling off, I made my way to the center of the Coliseum, the area where the gladiators would have fought to the death hundreds of years ago. There were archways set at regular intervals around the arena, each archway leading to a hallway that sloped slightly downwards, and I knew that, back in ancient Rome, the combatants would have entered from these doorways after waiting underneath the arena to fight. I spun around and around, soaking in the feel of the place, then struck a gladiator style pose, arms up as if in sword battle. I probably would never do anything so cheesy as pose like this in real life. "This is how I should pose for my portrait, if Adrian paints me," I said to myself out loud, and then stopped short, dropping my arms to my sides. _Adrian..._

Didn't this dream feel a little _too_ real?

When was the last time I had had a dream that felt _this _real?

And there was that feeling again, that someone was _watching_ me.

I walked to the center of the arena and shouted, as loud as I could, two words: "Show yourself!"

A few moments later, someone emerged from one of the gateways that had originally been intended for combatants. It was a tall male figure, dressed in a toga, crowned with a wreath of leaves. Underneath the wreath was that familiar carefully tousled brown hair, and as he got closer I was able to see those bright green eyes that I always found a little unnerving. I crossed my arms over my chest. The anger was building in me.

"Keep your skirt on, Sage," Adrian said as he got nearer.

I was in no mood to banter, and felt no need to tease him about the ridiculous toga. I was just furious that he had brought me into another spirit dream. This was magic again. Adrian knew how I felt about magic.

"How could you?" I shouted, when he was near enough to hear me. "How could you trick me into a spirit dream? I told you last time you did this - this is unnatural and wrong. Let me go." I found that I wasn't as frightened as I had been last time – mostly I was just angry.

"I didn't mean to trick you, Sage," Adrian said, sounding injured. "I just..."

I cut him off. "I don't want to hear it," I said. "Just let me go."

"Ok, ok, I will," he said. "But just give me one minute to explain. One more minute won't make a difference, right? Hear me out."

"Out with it, then," I said. "Quickly. Then let me go." He looked at me for a moment, studying my face. "Come on!" I shouted. "If you have something to say, say it."

He sighed. "Alright, then. A few hours ago I got a call from Jill. She said you were really upset, that you were crying about your jerk of a father calling you up and giving you some sort of bad news..."

"Don't call my father a jerk," I said, though part of me wanted to agree. My father kind of was a jerk, if you got right down to it.

"Ok. So your asshole of a father upset you," – I let out a bark of protest, but he went on – "and you were crying, and Jill was worried. I... I was worried too, you know? I mean, you may be impossible, but you're kind of my friend. I called you to check up on you, but you didn't answer. So I thought: Sydney needs something to cheer her up. I thought about what you said that time, about how you love ancient artifacts and how you've always wanted to go to Rome." I remembered that conversation. I had been chiding him about his chance to take college classes and had let it slip how much I had always wanted to study ancient buildings, and to go to Rome someday. I was surprised that he had been paying any attention to me. He went on, unaware of my surprise. "And, well, I went to Rome a few years ago, with my family, on vacation, so I know what Rome is like. I looked at some pictures and videos online to sort of boost my memory of the place. And spirit did the rest. As soon as you were asleep, I... brought you here." He gestured to the scenery around us.

"So, you kidnapped me, psychically."

"Well, yeah, but like the same way that sometimes people kidnap their friends and take them to a party or something..."

"I don't enjoy pranks like that."

"You don't really have friends, do you?" he asked.

"Excuse me?"

"You grew up alone with those religious freaks. You never had friends who would blindfold you and take you to a surprise party or anything like that, because you never had friends at all."

"Ok, now you're insulting me," I said, though really he was just stating a fact. I didn't really have many friends. "I'm ready to go now. Any time. Just let me wake up."

"Do you want to fight a little bit first?" he asked. He held up a pair of swords that he hadn't been holding a moment ago, and held one out to me. "We're in the right place for it. You're wearing the right sandals for it." The look he gave my legs was appreciative.

I felt a blush rise to my face. "I'm not going to fight with you," I said, trying to shake off my embarrassment. "Not with swords, or even words. I just want to go home."

"Come on, Sage. Why not have some fun first?" He gestured around us. "Stroll around a bit more. It might cheer you up, once you get used to it."

"It absolutely will not, and I won't," I said, as firmly as I could without shouting. "I don't understand why you thought that bringing me here would make me feel better. You know that I hate magic. What were you thinking?"

He let out an exasperated sigh. The swords disappeared. "Look, Sage. I thought as long as I kept out of sight, you would just think you were having a really great dream and wake up in a good mood. I was trying to do a good deed! I didn't think it would upset you. I mean, my goal was to make you feel better. Plus, I know that you've gotten a bit more used to... us... since the last time I met you in a dream. I thought maybe you wouldn't mind as much now." He gave me a sort of sheepish smile. I didn't say anything, but I felt my anger abating, very slightly. He seemed to take my silence as a sign to continue. "I know that your father can be really hard on you. And I know that your life as an alchemist has prevented you from doing the things you really wanted to do, like traveling in Italy. So I sort of wanted to make up for that." I still didn't say anything. I really didn't know what to say. "I thought it would make you happy," he added, lamely. "And... I'm sorry I like, insulted your home-schooling. Or whatever."

I took a deep breath. Oddly enough, I found myself not really that angry anymore. For one thing, it was hard to be angry at Adrian for some reason. And for another, I really had been enjoying the dream. Could it really be damaging my soul? _I _wasn't really doing anything. Adrian wasn't even in the same room as me.

"I guess..." I said, slowly. "I guess it could be considered research. The alchemists don't know much about how spirit dreams work, so it could be educational of me to investigate the area."

"You mean, you want to stay?" His face lit up, and I was again struck by his eyes. How could anyone have eyes that green?

"Just a few more minutes," I said. "Under two conditions."

"Name them," he said.

"First, if I say that I want to wake up, you let me. That moment. No questions asked." He nodded, and held up one palm as if making a solemn vow. "And second, that you change into something more normal looking. I can't handle walking around with a guy in a toga, even if it is in the middle of an evil magic dream."

He laughed. "Done!" he exclaimed. He shimmered all over, and then he was wearing normal clothing: dark wash jeans and a gray t-shirt made of some soft silky material. He was still wearing the wreath in his hair, but I decided to let that go. "You won't regret it, I promise, Sage," he added, as we started crossing the arena.

"I already do," I said wryly.

"I always prefer to regret something I did rather than something I didn't do," Adrian said. "It's the founding principle of my life."

"So do you regret all the work and study you haven't done?" I asked, as we reached the stairs leading up and out.

"Deeply," Adrian said, grinning.

"It's amazing how much this general layout is similar to modern arenas," I said.

"I wouldn't know," Adrian said. "I'm not exactly a sports fan."

"Nor am I," I said. "But I've had to go to arenas to clean up after Strigoi messes." I looked down at the ground, remembering.

When I looked up at Adrian, I saw him looking at me carefully. "It's not easy for you, is it?" he asked.

"I do my best," I said.

"I know you do," he said. And then we were quiet for a bit as we found our way to the exit of the arena.

"Ok, so now I've seen the Coliseum," I said, as we emerged blinking into the sunlight. "What's next?"

"Your call," he said, keeping to the shade. "Any place you really want to go? I mean, solely for _research _purposes."

"The Pantheon," I responded immediately.

"Oh, that's that dome place, right? I've been there. Sure, let's go to the Parthenon."

"Pantheon," I said, correcting him. "The Parthenon is in Athens. It is dedicated to Athena Parthenos, the virgin goddess of wisdom and military strategy."

"She sounds like a drag," Adrian said.

I continued, ignoring his interruption. "The Pantheon, which is in Rome, was originally dedicated to all the gods. _Pan_ for all, _theos_ for gods. _Pantheon_, all gods. Later it was converted to a Christian church, dedicated to the one true God, as well as all the martyrs..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, Sage. So you want to go?"

"Is it far from here?" I asked.

Adrian laughed. "It's around the corner," he answered.

"That doesn't sound right," I said, as we began walking. "The most important church wouldn't have been built so close to the..." My voice trailed off as we turned the corner and found ourselves in a large piazza. In the middle of the open area was fountain adorned with a tall monument, and a short distance away, slightly downhill from the fountain, was the ancient site I had so wanted to see. From the outside, it looked a lot like an ancient temple, with an exterior facade featuring a triangular roof resting on large ornate columns, but from this distance we could see the huge domed roof looming behind it.

"What the..." I said, bewildered.

"I got a little creative with the city layout," Adrian said, giving me that maniacal grin again. "A perk of exploring a city within a dream."

I sighed, shaking my head. "Fine," I said. "Well, shall we go in?"

"Seems the thing to do," Adrian said, and we walked down the slight slope to the grand entrance, past the enormous columns and through the open front door. A sign informed us that we were entering a sacred space, and I remembered that the Pantheon, though it looked from the outside so much like a pagan site, still functioned as a church. The sign reminded us that women should cover their shoulders in respect, and without a word, Adrian handed me a silver shawl. I resisted the natural urge to ask him where he'd gotten it, since the answer was obvious, and wrapped it around my shoulders. It was beautiful, soft and woven with shining threads, and I found myself wishing I could keep it somehow before I reminded myself that it was evil.

We passed through the site's rectangular antechamber and into the circular main room with its beautiful marble floor. Statues of saints were everywhere, and the air smelled faintly of incense. The ceiling was an enormous dome rising towards the heavens. At the top of the dome, a large circular hole revealed a bright blue sky, and a wide shaft of light coming from the hole lit up dust motes in the air. It was silent and imposing, and I wondered if God was here, as He was everywhere else.

The main altar was directly in front of us, facing the door, but there were a variety of smaller altars set at intervals, each one devoted to a different saint or martyr. I touched the cross at my neck, and then walked across the ornate marble floor. Reaching the high altar, I knelt in front of it to pray. If it was strange to pray in the middle of a magical reality, well, what can I say? It seemed like the right thing to do. _Please, God,_ I thought. _Please help me sort right from wrong here. This doesn't _feel _evil. Help me figure this out._

When I lifted up my head I was surprised to see Adrian looking thoughtfully at a statue at another altar. There was no sign explaining who the statue portrayed, and I didn't see any mark or symbol that would explain who it could be. Adrian's head seemed bowed, as if in prayer. I stepped over to his side.

"Hey, Sage," he said, when I approached. "I couldn't find the altar to that Athena chick, so I settled for this saint here, whoever it is. I figured it couldn't hurt to put in a good word for myself with the big guy."

"Well," I said. "Athena wouldn't have an altar here because she is a pagan Greek goddess and this is a modern Roman church."

"I knew that!" Adrian said, sounding a little annoyed. "Really, Sage, you forget I've been here before, in real life."

"I guess I did forget," I admitted. Then after a pause, I added, "I don't get it. When you came to Rome with your family, did you actually come in _here_?"

"Of course I did," he answered. He gestured away from the altar, and we began to walk in a circle around the room as we continued to talk. "Who goes to Rome and skips a visit to the Parthenon?"

"Pantheon," I corrected automatically. "But I mean, you really came _in_ here? _Inside_ the church?"

"Yes," he said, some annoyance in his voice. "What else would I have done? Stand outside having a cigarette?"

"Well, knowing you..." I said, and he laughed. "In all seriousness, don't you feel a little uncomfortable in a church? It is sacred ground, after all..." He stared at me, and I trailed off.

"You're thinking of Strigoi," he said. "I'm just like you. I don't burst into flame when I set foot on sacred ground." His reference to "bursting into flame" reminded me of what had happened that night with the Strigoi, when I had thrown the amulet and created fire from nothing. It still troubled me that I had done that, and I wondered if I should be praying for forgiveness for it. Well, later on I'd have to pray for forgiveness about a lot of things, I guessed.

We walked in silence for a little while after that, passing altars and saints. As we walked. I thought more about what he'd said. So, he was comfortable on sacred ground, like a human would be. It shouldn't have surprised me. I had learned from my training that some Moroi attended church, and that in fact, many of them claimed a sort of religious devotion. Really, religion was as much as part of Moroi culture as it was part of human culture, which struck me as bizarre. I guess I had always assumed that they would attend only special Moroi churches on unconsecrated ground. I guess I had never really thought about it. But if they really were dark, evil, creatures, what were they doing in church? It didn't make any sense.

Adrian had said that he was just like me. _No he's not,_ spoke up a snarky voice in my head. _Y__ou're a fire user, not a spirit user._ That thought left a weird feeling in me, and I shoved it aside.

"Do you go to church?" I asked him, as we paused to examine another saint. "I mean, in your regular life. With your family."

"Our family isn't very religious," he answered. "Some of my friends are, though. Lissa goes to church all the time. Me? … I guess you could say that I believe in something, you know? Or someone. I'm not sure. No one judgmental or anything. No one who would care if I say a rude word, or smoke a cigarette. But someone. Someone great and generous. I know that in many ways I was quite blessed. I was given these looks and this artistic talent..." I groaned, but he went on. "And, well, there's spirit. It may have some serious side-effects, but it can do some beautiful things, too. Like heal people. And... what I did for Jill." He didn't say the words, but we both knew.

"Are you saying that spirit is a gift from God?" It was hard to keep the incredulity out of my voice.

"Well, if God made everything, then I guess he made me too, you know? And if I have this gift, where else did it come from? Oh, I'm far from a saint," he laughed, and gestured to the nearest altar and its statue. "But everyone has gifts. You? You're tough and brilliant and beautiful. Me? I'm brilliant and beautiful and full of spirit."

"Pride is a sin," I said, but the words were ringing in my head, like the echoes of my footsteps had in those deserted Coliseum corridors. _You're tough and brilliant and beautiful._

"Ok," he answered. "Pride is a sin. So that means that I'm brilliant and beautiful, and full of spirit and sin." I looked away to hide my smile. "Seriously though, Sage," he said, and his voice had lost all its amused cynicism. "Like I said, everyone has a gift, you know? Remember at the mini-golf course when you learned how to play almost instantly?"

"That was easy though," I said. "Simple geometry and physics. Think about the angle of the path and the force needed to drive the ball..."

"But don't you see," he interrupted me. "It isn't at all simple to me. Or to most other people. The way you could just intuitively understand something like that? It seems like magic to me."

"You're being imprecise," I said. "I don't do magic. That's just a saying. 'It was like magic' is what people say when they are surprised by something, not necessarily when they are actually exposed to..."

He interrupted me again. "I know what the saying means, Sage. Listen, my point is, I can't see, hear, or feel how you do what you do, how you know so much, or can learn so quickly. It's just some quirk in that great big brain of yours."

"So you're saying that magic is just a 'quirk' too?"

"Not exactly. I'm saying that even though your talent can be understood by science, that doesn't make it seem any less magical to me. And while maybe what I do might not be explained by science yet, that doesn't make it evil or wrong. It may be understood someday." He gestured around the room. "Wasn't this place originally built to worship the gods of thunder and lightening? In a time before science explained that kind of thing? It seemed like magic to them then..."

Now I was the one to interrupt. "That's not what all religion is about. My faith has nothing to do with explaining the weather."

"Of course not, Sage. I wasn't knocking your faith." He sighed and leaned his head back, studying the ceiling, and then he said, "I don't think I'm explaining this right. Let's just drop it."

We walked on in silence until we came to the next altar. This wasn't devoted to a saint or martyr; it was the burial place of the Renaissance artist Raphael. A statue of the Virgin Mary stood above an inset in which the actual sarcophagus was visible.

"I know you're dying to tell me about Raphael," said Adrian, obviously trying to change the subject. "I'm guessing he was more than just a ninja turtle if he wound up buried in a place like this."

"The artist commonly known as Raphael was born 1483 and by the early 1500s was one of the most well regarded artists of his day," I said. "He was even more popular than Michelangelo and Leonardo DiVinci during his lifetime, and was regarded as a master of a perfectly balanced and naturalistic style. See the inscription on his sarcophagus?" I gestured and we both leaned forward to read it.

"You'll have to translate, Sage," said Adrian. "I don't know Latin."

"It says, '_Here lies the famous Raphael, by whom Nature herself feared to be conquered while he was living, and when he was dying, feared that she herself would die._' "

Adrian took a moment to digest that, then said, "Was he really _that_ good? Better than nature?"

"That's how some viewed him. Later on there was a backlash to his style, and..."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. We'll go to an art museum sometime, Sage. You can tell me all about it." He paused, adding, "Actually, we really should do that. There have to be some decent museums in LA. But anyway, see, this is my point. Raphael had a gift that some viewed as almost... _unnatural. _Right?"

"Well, yes, but it wasn't. It was just an extraordinary, but human, gift. I thought we were going to drop this."

"I would, but this is important. At some level, you don't trust me. You _can't _really trust me, because of what I can do. But look at Raphael." He gestured to the sarcophagus. "Aren't people, to this very day, astonished by what he could do with paint and with stone? Was that magic? Was it a gift from God? Was it a quirk, some extra neuron in his brain or something? I don't know for sure, and neither do you. And maybe someday Moroi magic will fit into your world view as a gift from God, just like other special talents. Just like Raphael's artistic skill. Just like your intelligence, and my many, many amazing qualities." He smiled. "Maybe someday there'll be an explanation for it, and maybe there won't be. But either way, I know that I'm not evil. Well, not evil in the way you seem to think I am. And what I can do with spirit might be..." He sighed. "It might be the best thing about me. Maybe, really, the only good thing about me. So I hope you can learn to trust it. And the rest of me."

We were both quiet for a minute, and then I said, "It's not the only good thing about you, Adrian." He raised an eyebrow. I went on hurriedly: "But maybe it isn't such a bad thing. I mean, it's still evil. But maybe it isn't... bad."

He stared at me, and then burst out laughing. "Ok, Sage. Have it your way. Evil, but not bad. Does that mean you want to see a few more places, here in Rome? For _research_?"

"I guess we could," I said, slowly. We turned to walk back towards the door, passing rows of pews that had been set up for services.

"Where would you like to go next?" Adrian asked. As we walked, we passed through that large beam of light coming from the open window at the top of the dome. "Hold on," he said suddenly, before I could answer. The sunlight had fallen on my face, and he looked at me carefully. "I wish I could paint you right here," he said. "With the light in your eyes just like that." I felt my heart-rate increase, just as it had that day in his apartment, when he told me my eyes were beautiful. What was going on here? He smiled. "It'll be a beautiful painting. Very balanced. True to nature. Why improve on _this_?" He gestured to my face. "Maybe someday they'll bury me next to Raphael," he said with a strange sounding laugh, and walked away. Just like that, the spell was broken. Well, the spell his words had cast. We were still in the midst of this magic spirit dream, of course.

We emerged from the Pantheon and walked up the slight slope to the fountain. We had a seat by its edge, and I took off my silver shawl, which immediately disappeared. I listed a few places I'd like to see, museums and other archaeological sites, but most of them were places Adrian had never been to, which meant we couldn't go there now.

"How about the Trevi Fountain?" he asked finally, and I agreed to the idea. We stood up, and everything around us shimmered for a moment. Then we were standing in a small back street. All around us were souvenir shops and little cafes. "I could have brought us straight there, but it's more fun if you come around the corner and see it," he explained. "But let's get some gelato first."

He pointed out a cafe that had a gelato display in the front window. The soft ice cream was arranged into beautiful cloud-like lumps, decorated with fruit, chocolate, and even toys. There was no one working in the cafe at all, so we just helped ourselves. I chose a cup – much more practical than a cone – and took a scoop of vanilla. It looked extremely high quality, and was flecked with tiny specks of real vanilla bean. Well, real _dream_ vanilla bean.

"Really, Sage?" Adrian said. "All these flavors available, and you choose vanilla?" He had chosen one scoop each of five or six completely insane looking flavors, including mint, coconut, butterscotch, and bubblegum. I wasn't sure if they would be good even on their own, and all mixed together on one cone – well, let's just say it wasn't exactly my style. But Adrian eyed it with delight.

"I like vanilla," I said. "It's a lot harder to make good vanilla ice cream, because the flavor is so delicate. You can't hide poor quality ingredients with strong fake flavors. Good vanilla is hard to come by, and a good way to judge the quality of an ice-cream manufacturer." Adrian rolled his eyes and took a few experimental licks of his crazy creation. I took a spoonful of my choice. Dream or no, it was the most amazing ice cream I had ever tasted. I wondered if it would count as calories in real life, and made a mental note to go for a jog in the morning just in case.

For a minute or two, we just walked through the narrow alleys, eating our gelato. It felt surprisingly normal, now that I was sort of used to being in a spirit dream. I found myself teasing him about his choice of flavors, since even he couldn't seem to eat the bizarre ice cream cone he had made. Then we came around a corner and there it was – the Trevi Fountain.

I had seen pictures of it all my life, but seeing it in person – or, well, even in a dream – it felt completely different. The fountain was built on the facade of a classical building, complete with windows and columns. Oceanus, the spirit of the ocean, stood at the center, his clam-shell chariot drawn by horses. The water spilling from the fountainheads was clean and blue. I stood entranced for a long moment.

"Normally," said Adrian, his voice a little hushed, "this place would be packed, and I mean _packed_, with tourists. It would be hard to get close." He paused for a moment, and then continued in a louder, less reverent voice: "But go on. Get nice and close. Jump in the water if you want!" I put the rest of my gelato down on a bench and took a few awestruck steps closer, then a few more. As I walked closer, I had to walk down a few steps to get to the level of the water. When I finally reached the fountain, I knelt down and leaned over the concrete barrier to touch the water, marveling at how cool and wet it felt. This was _so_ much more than a dream. I splashed some water on my face and then turned and looked over my shoulder. Adrian was sitting on a bench and watching me, eating a cone of what looked like peach gelato. The rest of the cone had disappeared. The color of the ice cream matched his shirt, which was now a pale orange. A little while ago, this little switch-eroo would have bothered me, but I realized that at the moment, it really didn't. In fact, I couldn't help but smile. Adrian was really something sometimes. And he was still looking at me. Why was he looking at me like that?

I turned away from his gaze. He wasn't a bad guy, even if he _was_ an evil creature of the night. In fact, maybe he wasn't even really that evil. Maybe Moroi weren't evil, or at least, no more evil than humans were. They were alive, like me. Seeing those Strigoi a few weeks ago had really emphasized the difference between alive and dead. I remembered Adrian holding my hand in silent comfort when we both thought we were going to die. Was _that_ evil, that touch, that comfort? If Moroi weren't really evil, could their magic be evil? Maybe it's just another talent. Something different from person to person. And he doesn't _look_ evil. He looks like any other guy. _Well, not like any other guy. He looks much bett- _

Adrian appeared suddenly at my side, cutting off my thoughts. He gave me a rakish grin, his face just inches from mine."Come on, Sage. Let's do it." My heart caught in my throat. "Let's dive right in!" He turned away from me and headed for the bright blue water.

Thankfully, he didn't actually dive – after all, the water looked about a foot and a half deep – but he did jump in wearing all of his clothing, including his shoes. I started to say something like, "Hey! Your clothing will be ruined! Aren't those shoes leather?" but I cut myself off before the ridiculous words passed my lips. He was splashing and playing in the water, and I shook my head, unable to keep the smile off my face. It did actually look like fun.

I sat down on the barrier and began undoing my sandals. It took a little time, with the straps criss-crossing up my calves. I looked up and Adrian was wearing a bathing suit now. Thankfully, it was a pair of trunks, not a speedo or anything too revealing, but still. The sight of his muscular, trim body was unnerving. Plus he was still wearing the ridiculous wreath on his head. I looked away and tried to focus on my sandals. Why? Why was this unnerving? He wasn't even human. What did it matter if he was attractive? Physical beauty was irrelevant, just a coincidence of genetics. I finished undoing my sandals and stepped gingerly into the fountain, holding the edge of my skirt up slightly to keep it from trailing in the water.

"Come on, Sage," Adrian said, paddling closer. "Get wet!"

I held up a warning finger. "If you splash me, so help me, I will wake up on my own power, Adrian."

"Fine, fine. I won't splash you. I might _dunk _you, though..."

"Adrian, I am not kidding."

"Ok, I won't splash or dunk you. But come on..." He found a shady spot created by the shadow of a statue, and sat down in the water as if it were a giant, deep bathtub, giving me another rakish grin. "Live a little, Sage!"

"I _am_ living!" I answered, gesturing to the fountain and my feet in the water.

He studied me before replying. "Yeah, I guess this is 'living' for you," he said finally, then added, tentatively: "It looks like your aura is... I mean, I think you're... I mean, are you having fun here?"

Had he said the word "aura?" Maybe I had misheard. I took a deep breath, noticing how cool and moist the air was here by the fountain. "I guess I am having fun." I was afraid he'd push it, but he didn't. He just smiled and nodded, then leaned back in the water, floating a little. I drank in the scene – the statues, the buildings, the warm sun, the cool water. It was a peaceful moment. I didn't jump and splash like Adrian, but I did walk around, feeling the worn smooth concrete under my bare feet and enjoying the slight resistance of the water as I took careful steps.

After a little while, Adrian stood up, water dripping from his wet hair and down his bare... I stopped that line of thought and focused on his hair. Somehow the wreath had stayed on his head as he had floated. Of course it had. "Well, Sage," he said. "Now that you've experienced the famous Trevi Fountain, want to see someplace else?"

"We could do that," I said, stepping out of the water. I sat down on the concrete barrier to dry off my feet the best I could and tie my sandals back on. Adrian stepped out lightly, and when I glanced at him a second time, I could see that he was already dressed in dry clothes. Now he was wearing a charcoal gray suit over a gray dress shirt, accentuated with a bright green tie that exactly matched his eyes. He still had on the ridiculous wreath. He looked like a photograph in a magazine ad for cologne or something. He noticed me looking at his suit and said, "Well, you know. When in Rome..."

"When in Rome?" I knew the saying, but didn't see the relevance.

"This is a Dolce and Gabbanna suit," he said. I stared at him, then went back to tying up my sandals. "That's an Italian designer right?" Adrian asked. I sighed, and he went on. "Do you want to change into something a little more... Italian? I mean, there has to be something out there a little snazzier than what you have on. Not that you don't look nice... But I saw some Gucci gowns in a little boutique when I was here last time..."

"Don't push it," I said again, then thought for a moment. "Wait, so you disapprove of this outfit?"

"No, no, Sage. I adore it. It is the nicest thing I've ever seen you wear."

"But does that mean you didn't pick out this outfit for me, when you brought me here?"

"No way," Adrian said. "That was all you. Don't you remember? You were wearing your pajamas when you came..."

I did remember. I was in pajamas at first, and then I had looked down and found myself wearing this outfit instead. I couldn't believe that my own subconscious had chosen such sexy sandals. As I thought about that, they disappeared, and were replaced by a pair of more sensible walking sandals.

"Damn," said Adrian. "I quite liked those lace-up ones. Oh well, I guess that's what I get for pressing my luck. So, you're ready to go?"

"Almost," I said. "First, we have to do something. Do you have any coins?"

"I have anything you need, baby," he said, waggling his eyebrows at me. "What kind of coins?"

"Any kind will do."

He concentrated slightly, then held out his open hand to me. In his palm were two bright golden dollars, and I took one. He asked, "What are they for?"

"Turn around," I instructed. We both stood with our backs to the fountain. "Now, we're supposed to toss the coin with our right hands, over our left shoulders, into the fountain."

"Is this a magic spell, Sage?" His voice was full of amusement.

"No. It's a custom," I said, flatly.

"Should I make a wish?"

"If you want. The custom is to toss the coin into the fountain. Doing so is said to ensure that you'll come back to Rome someday."

"Won't this really just ensure that we dream of Rome again someday?"

"Really, Adrian, I'm not an expert in dream logic." That got a chuckle from him. "Now, let's throw!"

I found myself, unexpectedly, making a wish as we both threw our coins in the water: _Please let everything be alright._ It was the first wish I'd come up with, and the coin was tossed into the water before I had time to think of another one. I was regretting such a formless, unclear wish, and Adrian noticed the look on my face, I guess, because he offered me another coin.

"Want a do-over?" he said.

"I really shouldn't..." I said.

Before I could finish what I was going to say, Adrian closed his eyes and threw the coin over his shoulder. "Twice the power!" he said, flashing me a handsome grin. I didn't want to tell him that the legend was that two coins thrown in the fountain were supposed to bring about a new love. _A new love? _I thought. _With who? _Who would be a good match for Adrian? Jill was too young, of course. There weren't any other Moroi around. I didn't want to think about any of it. It gave me a weird feeling.

"So," I said, trying to put the matter from my mind. "Where are we going? We can't exactly go to any museums. Shopping would be fairly pointless..."

"I have an excellent idea. Follow me, my alchemist friend."

We set off through the winding streets of Rome's old quarter. After we'd walked for a few minutes, we came upon another gelato shop. This one was even more elaborate than the one we'd stopped at the first time, with dozens and dozens of flavors. "This shop was my favorite when I was in Rome," Adrian said.

"You're taking me to a gelato shop? That was your excellent idea?"

"Of course not. This is just a pit stop. And this time, you have to choose something other than vanilla."

"I told you. Vanilla is really actually my favorite. I'm not being boring on purpose."

"How's this for a deal." He leaned in close. "Let me pick out a flavor for you, and I'll try the vanilla."

"That doesn't make sense. There's no incentive for me. Why would I care if you try the vanilla or not?"

"Because then you'll have the satisfaction of being right if it turns out I like it."

"I still say it doesn't make sense, but whatever. What flavor are you going to pick out for me?"

He stepped behind the counter, a jaunty red and white striped paper cap on his head now, balanced on top of the wreath that he seemed determined to never be without. He put several scoops of pale green gelato into a cup, and handed it to me along with a pink plastic spoon. He said with a very thick fake Italian accent, "Here you go, mademoiselle. Will there be anything else for you today?"

I took it from him, saying, "This will be all, and by the way, _mademoiselle_ is French, not Italian." I took a taste of the gelato, expecting pistachio or mint, and was surprised to find that it was a very delicate honeydew melon flavor. I looked up at him, but he was focused on scooping vanilla gelato onto a sugar cone. When he was done, he smiled over at me. I was trying not to just devour the whole cup of ice cream at once.

"Good?" he asked.

"Delicious, actually," I said.

He looked pleased. The cap was gone again, and a stray breeze ruffled his brown hair from under the wreath."I knew you'd like it. You loved the melon at the buffet that time..." Several weeks ago, after Lee's funeral, we had all gone out for a sort of brunch, and while it had been a sad occasion, we had actually had a fairly nice meal at a local buffet-style restaurant. I still remembered Jill, her eyes red from crying, smiling when Adrian had done a lame "magic trick" with a stack of toothpicks. How Adrian had noticed me eating a big plate of melon, my favorite fruit, I did not know.

"And what do you think of the vanilla?" I asked as we left the gelato shop and headed back out into the alleyway.

"It's actually delicious," he said. "It might be my new favorite flavor. When you're right, you're right, and you are right, Sage." With his free hand, he actually patted the back of my head, then trailed his hand down to my shoulder before he pulled away. "See?" he said. "We each have something to teach the other."

I brushed at the shoulder he had touched. It felt strange, like the way your foot feels when it's been asleep and begins to wake up. "So you can teach me about gelato and jumping into fountains," I said, "and I'll teach you about everything else?"

"Pretty much!" he said.

"Well, here's one more thing that maybe you can explain," I said. "If you've never had the vanilla gelato, then how do you know what it tastes like? I mean, in order to create it in the dream? How can _all_ of these details be coming from your mind?"

He shrugged, unconcerned. "I don't really know. I think once you've been somewhere, spirit sort of does the rest. I sometimes think that maybe we're sort of actually... here. Or... something. I don't really know. I'd say we should ask Lissa, but she never really got this dream walking thing down. Maybe Sonya knows. Maybe someday you and I should try to go somewhere neither of us has actually been." He considered that. "Actually, we really should. If I could get the knack of that, just think of how much we'd save on airplane tickets."

We were coming around another corner – streets in this neighborhood were extremely winding and complicated – and we found ourselves in a wide avenue. The buildings here had different architectural elements than most of the other buildings we had seen so far. In fact, they had a Spanish influence that I recognized from the architecture book I used to study, growing up. "Did you take us to Spain by mistake?" I asked.

"Of course not, oh ye of little faith." He laughed, and I touched the cross around my neck without really noticing it. "This is what this area looks like. I don't really know why. But I remember it was pretty. I figured you would know what the deal was, why it was like this." We looked around at the Spanish style buildings, the few tall palm trees, and the wide expanse of stairs...

"Oh!" I said, my hand flying up to my mouth. "This is the Piazza di Spagna!" At Adrian's blank stare, I added, "The Spanish steps."

"I knew you'd figure it out," Adrian said.

We stood in a wide piazza. Looking in one direction, there was a wide staircase that went up and up, to a large church that looked down on us. At the base of the stairs was a pretty fountain featuring a old-fashioned boat, designed to look like it had partially sunk into the shallow water. Clear water poured from spigots at the bow and stern, as well as from a traditional fountain in the center. "This area was designed by a French architect," I said, "but is known as the Spanish plaza because it's near the old Spanish embassy, and of course because of the architectural style. It's a famous tourist area."

"Thank you for the history lesson," Adrian replied, but he didn't sound too sarcastic. "And what is the story of this fountain here?"

"It's called the Fountain of the Old Boat," I said. "The story is that apparently there was an incredibly high flood one year on the Tiber river, and a boat washed up here. So they built a fountain here to commemorate it. This is highly unlikely, however, since the Tiber is many, many miles away. The only custom I'm aware of with regards to this fountain is fairly pedestrian. The water that comes from that spigot is supposed to be very good, so people drink from it."

"And it's good luck?" Adrian asked.

"No, I don't think so. It's just... you know. Water."

"Well, if it's the custom to drink, let's do so." He produced two ornate silver goblets and held one in the stream of water coming from the spigot. He handed the full glass to me, then filled a glass for himself. "Cheers, Sage," he said, and we clinked glasses.

The water was cold and fresh tasting. As we sipped from the goblets, I said, "You know, one theory about the fall of Rome states that because the rich people drank from lead-glazed goblets, they all became ill with lead-poisoning, while the poor drank from unglazed ceramics, keeping them safe. Lead-poisoning causes brain damage over time. So, as time went on, more and more of the heads of state became mentally ill, while the rest of the population was mentally healthy. Of course, this imbalance couldn't last forever, so ultimately the state fell into disarray..." I trailed off. "I'm doing that thing again, aren't I?"

"What 'thing'?" Adrian asked, with interest.

"That over-educated, over-informed thing I do."

Adrian shrugged, took a sip of his water, and then commented: "I enjoy your over-educated, over-informed thing. I always learn something when I hang out with you. I never would have known how important it is to buy high quality goblets if it weren't for you. Believe me, I'm going to have a long talk with my suppliers when I wake up."

"Don't make fun of me," I said.

"I'm not making fun of you. If I were, you'd know. Trust me." I really couldn't read his expression.

"It's just... " I said. "We're supposed to be having fun, and I just launched into a theory on the fall of Rome. Do you know, some guy asked me out a few weeks ago, and I didn't even notice. I gave him a mini-lecture on the history of cinema."

I expected Adrian to laugh, but he didn't. "Who asked you out?" was his immediate response.

"An acquaintance of Trey's."

"And who is Trey?"

"A sort-of friend... He's really not relevant to my point."

"Well, did you go out with him? The guy who asked you out?"

"I told you, I didn't even realize he was asking me out. Later on, one of my friends told me that she had overheard the whole thing, and that he hadn't been asking my opinion of movies. He had been asking if I wanted to see a movie with _him_." I wrinkled my nose slightly. "She was laughing like she'd never seen anything so funny in her life. Apparently, I wouldn't know a date if I were actually _on _it." I sighed. "Sometimes, I think I should have had a 'personal interaction' lesson or two, as part of my home-schooling."

Adrian _did_ laugh at that. "Exactly how would that work?"

"Like everything else. Perhaps we could have watched movies, and discussed the actions of the characters to better understand body language cues."

"And for homework?"

"Essays, I guess..."

"Would your final project be to recreate a prom in your parent's basement?" His face was absolutely dead serious.

"We don't really have a basement. We live in an area prone to flooding so..." I broke off because Adrian burst into laughter.

"Oh, Sage," he said. "You won't learn what you need to know from a movie. I think it's a good thing that you're stuck in high school again. This time you have a chance to figure out what the rest of us have been learning since we were in kindergarten. And for the meantime, please don't change a bit. I love your mini-lessons." He gave me that maniacal grin again. "I mean, sometimes I want to gag you with a scarf or something, but the rest of the time I think it's adorable." He stood up and put down his goblet, which then immediately disappeared. "Come on, Sage. Since we're at the Spanish steps, we should go to the top," he said. "What do you think?"

"Seems the thing to do," I said.

"Shall we get into the spirit of things?" He shimmered all over again, and now he was wearing a Spanish bullfighter's outfit. "You could wear something like this..." He gestured to a mannequin that hadn't been there a second ago. It was wearing a red ruffled dress appropriate for a Flamenco dancer.

"Adrian, no. No way. First of all, we're not in Spain. Second, even if we were, I'm not preparing to do Flamenco dance. That takes years of training. Third, you're not a bullfighter..."

"Fine, fine, fine, Sage! Well, how about this, then. Just as a nod to the occasion?" He pulled a bright red lily from behind his back. It was attached to a bobby pin, and before I had time to tell him not to, he had pinned it in my hair, behind my ear. "There," he said, with pleasure. "That's perfect." He held up a mirror that he had summoned for the occasion. I had to admit, the flower looked kind of cute.

"Hmm," I said. "I guess I like it."

"You're welcome," he said. He then gestured to the steps, and I saw that he was back in his gray suit. "Well, Miss Sydney Sage," he said, in an artificially aristocratic way. "May I whisk you to the top?" He bowed and offered me his elbow.

"Thank you," I said. "But I think I would like to go to the top under my own power."

"Sage," he said, in his normal voice, "I meant, let's just... go to the top. Those are a _lot_ of steps."

"I know. Something like 130, I think," I said. "But I want to climb them."

"Come on, you crazy alchemist. That's the great thing about a dream. We can just sort of... be there. At the top."

"Well, you can do that if you want. I'll meet you up there soon. But I want to walk up myself."

"Why?" He was incredulous.

"Because. The view will be more meaningful if I work for it."

"That makes no sense," he said. But he began climbing the steps with me.

We climbed in silence, not hurrying, just taking them one at a time. It was tiring, and I wondered if the sun was affecting Adrian. I looked over and noticed him carrying a silky silver parasol. Our eyes met and I stifled a grin, and we just kept climbing.

When we reached the top, we sat down by yet another monument to look down on the city below. The view was stunning. We could see the Capital in the distance, as well as a few other of Rome's most famous buildings. The sun was beginning to set, and there was a faint pink tinge to the sky.

"See?" I said. "It was worth the walk."

Adrian said, "Maybe, Sage. I'm still not sold on the whole physical exercise thing. But in any case, let's celebrate making it to the top." He handed me a glass of champagne, again pulled from nowhere. When I hesitated to take it, he said, "Don't worry. It's non-alcoholic."

The absurdity of this hit me and I started to laugh. Non-alcoholic champagne, plucked from the sky, to drink in the middle of a dream, while watching the sun set on a city that was actually thousands of miles away, while hanging out with gorgeous semi-evil royal vampire wearing a wreath on his head? Sure. Why not? Once I started laughing, I found I couldn't stop. When I tried a sip of the champagne, the bubbles went up my nose and I started laughing harder. Adrian just watched me laugh, and patted me on the back once or twice. He was grinning, but I guess he didn't find the whole thing as funny as I did.

When I had finally stopped laughing, Adrian said, "Well, even if you're not sure yet about spirit dreams, I'm really glad that you decided to stay. For _research _purposes."

"Yeah, I guess it was a fun day. Or night. Or whatever this is."

"It was, wasn't it? And you're obviously feeling better. That's a load off my mind."

"What makes you think I feel better? My little laughing fit?"

"No, although I guess that's part of it. I just can tell. You were feeling pretty down before, and now you're... feeling better."

He seemed so smugly sure of himself that it sort of bothered me. "Why are you so confident?" The truth was, I really was feeling much better. Being in this place seemed to lighten my mood. I didn't really know why. I just was feeling... free. And oddly safe. It didn't make any sense.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you. Let's just say, I have my ways." He raised his eyebrows at me and grinned.

"Ok," I said. "Don't tell me."

After a few seconds of silence, he said, "Ok, I'll tell you. It's your aura."

"Are you serious? You actually believe in auras?"

"What, you believe in spirit dreams and bringing people back from the dead, but it's _auras_ that you draw the line at?"

He had a point, but I wasn't going to admit that. "Fine. So, what about my aura?"

He sniffed. "I don't want to tell you about it. You don't believe me." I sighed. After another few seconds, he went on as if he had never stopped. "People have auras that tell you something both about their personality and their mood. Your aura, Sage, is a beautiful band of color around your head. The colors are strong: green and purple and blue. It's one of the reasons I know that you're a stand-up kind of girl." I sighed again, but I was glad to know that at least my aura was nice-looking.

"So, what does that have to do with how I feel?"

"Let me finish! Listen. When someone is feeling good, healthy and strong, their auras sort of shine. And when they don't feel well, darkness creeps in, the colors fade. When I first saw you in the Coliseum tonight, your aura was tinged with darkness, and the colors were dull."

"Well, maybe that was because I was angry."

"Oh, you were angry too. I could see the bands of red. And some spots of pale yellow... that's fear. But that wasn't all of it. It was darkness, a weight, a sadness. Something was pulling you down. But now? Your aura is bright and shining. The colors are clear, and there are bands of gold, almost as golden as..." His hand reached up to touch my face, his fingers running along the lines of my tattoo, and he was staring right into my eyes. I realized that a few months ago I would have pulled away instinctively from the touch of a Moroi. At the moment, though, I didn't see the need. "It's golden as your... tattoo," he finished. His hand lingered on my cheek, so warm, his eyes now focused on something just above my head. "It's even brighter now than it was a moment ago," he said. "Maybe it likes being talked about." He paused and our eyes locked again. Then he laughed and dropped his hand. I could swear I could still feel his fingers on my skin, like he had left a trail of fire. Was that some sort of Moroi magic? Or was it just an effect of the spirit dream?

"Anyway," he continued. "That's how I know that you're feeling better. Golden aura equals happy girl." He trailed off, as if something had suddenly occurred to him. "You know," he said, slowly. "When I saw Rose in that dream that time, just before she came back to court... her aura was like the sun. Exactly like looking at the sun. I bet that was when she and Belikov had just...figured things out." His voice was bitter.

I didn't know exactly what he was talking about, but I could sort of put the pieces together. And though I couldn't see auras, I could sense a major shift in mood. Adrian's moods always could change on a dime. "I'm sorry," I said, as gently as I could. Gentle wasn't normally my thing. "If it makes you feel better, I don't think they were... together, while we were traveling. I think that Rose was faithful, for a long time."

"But ultimately, she went back to him." He sighed, then went on, with a thoughtful expression, "I guess that 'back' is the key word here. While she was with me she was just biding her time, waiting for him to come back. He makes her happier than I could, apparently. It was always Belikov. I wasn't the right man for her. I never was."

"Do you think..." I said, slowly. "Well... I mean, I like Rose. A lot. I've spent a lot of time with her, and I think she's a great person. For an evil creature of the night, of course." He didn't laugh. "But do you think that she was the right person for you? I mean, ignoring whether you were the right person for her. Was she the right person for you?" I seemed to have stumped him, because he didn't say anything. After a moment, I sort of blundered on. "I heard about that 'dating contract' you signed for her." Rose had told me about that as we had sat by the fire when we were staying with the Keepers, months and months ago. "I still think that's weird. Why promise someone to change, just to please _them_? I don't really know a lot about this stuff, but I think that you need someone who sort of... inspires you, but not in a controlling way."

"Rose didn't control me," he said.

"That isn't quite what I meant. What I meant was, you need someone who motivates you to do your best, not because you want to impress them, but because you feel like you can do better, from having them around. Because they make you want to do the right thing, not for them, but for yourself."

He didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was so quiet I had to lean a little closer to hear him. "You do that, sort of."

"Well, yeah. So, you need someone like that..." My voice sounded unnaturally high, even to me. I started babbling. "And once this assignment is up, you can go back to the Moroi court and find someone else, someone who'll take you seriously, even when you don't take yourself seriously. Someone who'll see the good in you and not be afraid to call you out when you need it..." I stopped suddenly, aware of him staring at me. Was there something on my face? I mean, other than my tattoo. My heart was pounding in my chest. My hands were sweating. What was wrong with me? Was I coming down with something?

"And where would I find someone like that, Sage?" he asked. His voice was still quiet, but it had a certain intensity now. "Someone who does all that, and looks good in a pair of lace up sandals?" I looked down. The sandals had reappeared on my legs! Had he done that, or had I? We didn't speak for a long, long moment. Then he said, "By the way, you never told me what you wished for by the fountain. Do you want to know what I wished for?"

"It won't come true if you say it out loud," I said. My voice was barely above a whisper.

He leaned closer, so that he could hear me, I guess. "I don't believe that superstition. I wished that everything would be alright. I wished it twice. Isn't that dumb? What did you wish for?"

I was starting to freak out. I had to get out of here. I had to wake up. "Let me go," I said loudly.

"What?" Adrian said, surprised.

"You said you'd let me wake up, whenever. You promised you'd do it when I asked. So do it."

He looked stunned and hurt, but after the tiniest pause, he nodded. "I keep my promises. Goodnight, Sydney," he said, and the world began to dissolve around us.

I woke up in my bed and sat up, not sure what to do or how to feel. Seriously, what was wrong with me? My heart was still pounding, and my hands were just as sweaty in the waking world as they had been in the dream. I got up and started pacing around my room. I found my medicine kit and took my temperature, but it was normal. With a flashlight and a mirror, I checked my throat for signs of infection. I systematically felt all my lymph nodes for swelling. I checked for rashes on my cheek and shoulder, the places that had been tingling before. I couldn't find anything wrong. So what was up with the erratic heartbeat and the sweaty hands and the...

…. the sudden and overwhelming feeling of...

"I am a professional," I told myself sternly. "Whatever is going wrong right now, I can handle it. I have been trained since childhood to solve problems."

But an answering thought in my mind came unbidden: _I don't think this the kind of problem you were trained for, _it said_. _

"Shut up," I muttered, and set about getting ready for class.


	2. I: Drowning

**Chapter Two: Drowning**

Over the next two days, I tried not to think about what had happened, or the strange symptoms I had experienced. I was busy with schoolwork and my side project with Ms. Terwilliger, so in some ways it was easy to keep my mind off of things. I put in some study time with Jill, and made yet another half-hearted and unsuccessful attempt to get Angeline out of her ongoing punishment. I went to volleyball practice and kept up with my self-defense training with Eddie.

I didn't hear from Adrian at all, which was sort of unusual. Looking back on the last few weeks, I realized that Adrian normally called me almost every day for some reason or another. Part of me wondered if I was upset about nothing. Maybe it had just been a regular dream, and Adrian had had nothing to do with it. But the silence coming from his end served to confirm my belief that it wasn't all in my head. Why would he act differently now if nothing had happened?

And anyway, if he _had_ called me, what would I have said to him? The fact was, we'd been spending too much time together and it had been getting confusing. I had been beginning to forget that he was a vampire. Some space would be good for both of us. It was weird, though. At one point, wanting to get my mind off of my troubles, I actually got out my phone to call _Adrian_. Which made no sense at all, of course.

On the second night after the dream, I dropped by Jill's room after dinner to remind her that we were going for a visit to Dorothy the next day. When I walked in, Jill and Angeline were each sitting on their own beds. Angeline was staring into space, her knees drawn up to her chest. She gave off the air of a wolf in a cage, and I felt sort of sorry for her. Jill was busily texting with someone, from what I could tell.

"Hey," I said to the two of them as walked in. "Jill, I just wanted to remind you that we're going over to Clarence's tomorrow for... a visit." I rarely called it what a was: a _feeding_. I hated saying the word out loud. It was so awful. Fangs and blood and... eww.

"Ok, great!" Jill said. "I'll meet you and Eddie in the parking lot after last class. And um, I wanted to ask you, is it ok if we go over to Adrian's place afterward? He says it's ok." She held up her phone, indicating the source of her information.

Angeline's ears perked up at the mention of Adrian's name. I was again reminded of a wolf.

"He's been holed up in his apartment, painting," Jill said. "He's only gone out for supplies, like food and more paint. And feedings, of course." _Of course,_ I thought, shuddering slightly. "But he says we can come over if we want."

"Well, if he says it's ok," I said. "I guess that'd be alright."

"If you're going to Adrian's, can I go with you?" Angeline asked. She leaned forward, energy radiating out of her. "I would not mind at all seeing that pretty man again."

This wasn't the first time I had noticed Angeline's interest in Adrian. I knew there was nothing wrong with it. There was a slight age difference, but she was at least a Dhampir. And compared to her society's bizarre dating practices, a Dhampir dating a Moroi who was only five years older than her was positively progressive and normal. But even so. She was so... unrefined. She was still getting used to electricity, for heaven's sake. Adrian needed someone a bit more put-together. Someone a bit...cleaner. As in, literally. Angeline didn't smell bad or anything, but I was always tempted to turn the hose on her every time I saw her.

I felt an odd satisfaction in replying, "I'm sorry, but you know you're still restricted to grounds for the time being." She leaned back on her bed, looking miserable.

"I'm sure you'll be let out of your punishment soon," Jill said, gently. "And then we'll all go wherever you want to go. Maybe mini-golf..." Her voice trailed off.

"There are lots of things we could do. We'll do something fun," I said, trying to keep Jill's thoughts from going to that mini-golf game with Lee. "Maybe, um, bowling. A lot of young people enjoy bowling as a casual pass-time."

Angeline rolled her eyes. "You talk like an old person," she said. "You should cut loose, live a little." She scooted around then leaned back so that her head was hanging off the bed and she was looking at all of us upside-down. "I mean, I'm stuck in here, but you are voluntarily sitting in your room like a skinny blonde lump, Lily-girl."

Angeline's words hit closer to home than I would have liked. Lee and Keith had both told me almost the same thing, before each found his sad end. They had each implied that I was going to die without ever really having lived. Suddenly, I remembered Adrian plunging into the Trevi Fountain, the way my heart had practically stopped when he had whispered, "Let's do it!"

"I have fun," I said, resolutely. "I have lots of fun."

Angeline raised one eyebrow. In her upside-down state, it was more like lowering it. "Sure you do. Write me an essay about it, why don't you? Turn it in to me, and then I'll hit you over the head with it."

Jill sighed. "Ok, Angeline. We know you're not exactly... best friends with Sydney, but she's my friend, and you're my guardian, sort-of. So can we all just _try _to get along?"

"I always get along with people," said Angeline. She smiled at me sweetly. Her face was starting to turn red from the flow of blood to her head. "You know I like you, Sydney."

I did _not_ know that, but I decided to take that as my cue to go back to my room. I said goodnight to both of them, and Jill wished me sweet dreams. I had to work to not to rise to Angeline's bait as she added, "Maybe at least your dreams will be interesting, since your life is so frickin' boring." It was a coincidence, I knew. She didn't know, couldn't know, how interesting my dreams had been a few nights ago.

Would they be interesting again tonight? I wondered. I got ready for bed, an odd feeling of anticipation shooting through me. But my dreams that night were mine, and mine only.

Our visit to Clarence's the next day took even less time than usual. The old man had been asleep when we arrived, so we didn't have to put in any time having a conversation with him. The trip pretty much consisted of Jill going into a back room with Dorothy for a few minutes, while I made small talk with Eddie and tried not to think about fangs or blood. Jill emerged a few minutes later, energetic and happy looking, and excited to go see Adrian. I felt faintly ill, as I usually did when Jill had just had a feeding, but I tried to focus on how nice it was to see her healthy.

On the drive over, Jill gave Adrian a quick phone call to let him know we were coming. "He's just getting into the shower," she giggled when she hung up. "He's nervous," she added, a little confused. She turned her head to the side, as if listening to something far away. "I don't really know why."

"Maybe he's worried he won't have time to do his hair," Eddie said wryly.

Jill smiled, but then the puzzled look returned to her face. "It's something to do with the paintings, I think? Maybe he feels nervous about showing them to us? In any case, I just got a wave of the same feelings he gets when he paints..." She trailed off.

"Why aren't you more sure?" Eddie asked. "Is the bond getting weaker?" There was a hopeful note in his voice. The bond between Jill and Adrian was one more obstacle that stood between her and Eddie. I wished the dhampir would just get over his issues and ask Jill out, but I really was in no position to give love advice, as I was no expert on the topic.

"Adrian's doing a better job of keeping me out of his head," Jill explained. "He's been working on it with Sonya, and I think it's been helping. It's kind of good, I guess."

"You guess?" Eddie said. "I thought that it was what you both wanted."

"Oh, of course," said Jill. "But... How can I explain this?" She thought a moment, and then said, "You know when there's music on somewhere in the room, real quiet? Like maybe it's just coming from someone's headphones. You can just hear that it's music, but not which song it is, and it drives you crazy. And you think, if it was louder that would be ok, or if it was just off that'd be ok, but this way is just the worst. That's sort of what it's like. I get flashes from Adrian that don't make sense. I see images of the painting he's working on, but with no clear thoughts, just a feeling of happiness or sadness or a sort of confused combination of the two." She paused, then added, "One thing I'm pretty sure of, though, is that it's not about Rose."

"That's good," said Eddie. "It 's time Adrian moved on from that." I was grateful that he had spoken, as it gave me time to repress the unexpected and strange delight that ran through me at Jill's words. It would have been unprofessional of me to let out some sort of celebratory whoop. And also, weird.

We parked, and Eddie helped Jill out of Latte, his hands gentle on her arm. "So yeah," Jill continued as we walked up the path to the front door to Adrian's building. "These paintings seem to mean a lot to him, but I don't understand them. They're all paintings of Italy or something, I think. Isn't that weird?"

Thanks to my alchemist training, which taught me to keep a straight face no matter what, I managed not to react to that bit of news, either. Jill rang the doorbell to Adrian's apartment and he buzzed us up.

When he answered the door, I yet again found my alchemist training tested. Adrian had obviously just stepped out of the shower. There was a thick black towel wrapped around his waist, and water dripped from his dark hair in tiny rivulets down his bare chest. He smelled of shampoo and soap, clean and sweet. Why did those smells seem so different coming from him than they did coming from the same products in my shower bag? I felt the color rise in my cheeks. _Physical beauty is irrelevant, _I reminded myself, then wondered why I was even thinking about it.

"Hey guys," he said with a grin. "Sorry I'm not ready." He stepped back and gestured inside. "Come on in and wait a second while I just throw something on." He winked and went to his bedroom, and we sat down on his awful plaid couch. The living room showed signs of his self-imposed isolation. There were two paintings on easels in the living room, and to judge by the wetness of the paint, they were recent creations.

We had to brush aside a few empty cartons of vanilla Haagan-Daaz in order to sit down, and there were a few more empty cartons on the floor on top of an empty pizza box. "Looks like he's been doing research for his painting," said Jill, brushing aside some cartons. "Look at that one." She was pointing to the painting on the left, which depicted the Roman Coliseum re-purposed as a giant bowl of vanilla ice cream. A giant bright pink spoon stuck out of the topmost scoop. Jill giggled at the painting, and Eddie let his guardian facade drop enough to crack a smile.

"Oh, that one's even better." Jill gestured to the other easel, and giggled again. The painting depicted Adrian himself, sitting blindfolded in an old-fashioned boat in the middle of a bright blue ocean. The sun was bright and cheerful, but the boat was mostly water-logged. The boat looked like the one we had seen in the fountain at the base of the Spanish steps. Despite the bright, cheerful color scheme of the piece, I got waves of sadness and confusion coming from the figure in the boat. I couldn't understand why Jill and Eddie seemed to think it was funny.

"I call that one 'Out to See'," said Adrian, emerging from the hallway. "That's _see_ with two e's. It's a play on words. Do you get it?" He was wearing dark-wash jeans and a charcoal gray cashmere sweater. As he got closer, I could still smell the clean soapy smell coming from him.

"I get it," said Jill. "It's great. I love it. What do you call the ice cream one?"

"It's called 'Boring on Purpose'," Adrian said, perching on one of his end tables.

"Um, I don't get it," said Jill.

"It's a reference to something, Jailbait. And it's art. So don't question it." He ruffled her hair to take away the slight sting to his words. "Hey, speaking of, do any of you want some ice cream? I only have vanilla. It's my new favorite flavor."

I remembered how, when I had told Adrian, during the dream, that I really liked vanilla, I had said, "I'm not being boring on purpose." Was he making fun of me? Was he saying that _I was _boring on purpose?

"You should call the painting 'My New Favorite Flavor'," I said.

He avoided my eyes. "That's what it was called originally. But now it's 'Boring on Purpose.' Never question the artist, Sage!"

"Well, I love the paintings," said Jill, "and I would love some ice cream. I promise not to question you, Adrian!" She glanced at me, then back at Adrian, apparently sensing the tense atmosphere.

"What about you Eddie? Ice cream?" asked Adrian.

"Sure," said Eddie. "Thanks."

"I'll go get it," said Adrian, and walked off down the hall toward his kitchen.

"What about me?" I called after his retreating form.

"I knew you wouldn't want any," he called back, and disappeared. He was right, of course. Ice cream wasn't exactly in my diet plan. But he could have offered. Wasn't he always saying that I needed to put on ten pounds or so? What happened to trying to get me to eat?

"I'll help him carry stuff," said Eddie, and followed after Adrian, leaving Jill and me alone in the living room.

"He's acting so _weird_," Jill said, as soon as Eddie was out of earshot.

"Who, Adrian or Eddie?"

"Adrian, of course. Did you and him have a fight or something?"

"No," I said. "Of course not."

"Well, there's something going on. You two need to talk or something."

"I'm telling you, it's really nothing to do with me," I said mendaciously. "Maybe it's a spirit thing. You know how he gets."

Jill thought about this. "It doesn't really _feel_ like spirit. There's a _feeling_ to that. This is so weird. I don't know what it is. It's like he's going through every possible feeling at the same time and he's so confused. And he's partially blocking me, as hard as he can, so I get only momentary... bits."

"And you're sure it's not Rose?"

"Yeah, pretty sure." She turned her head to the side, studying me. "Why do you ask?"

"Adrian's _my_ friend too," I said. "After the Strigoi attack, I guess we got a little closer. I want to see him feeling happier." Why had I brought up the Strigoi attack? Jill's face crumpled, remembering the day that her so-called boyfriend Lee had died. A tiny voice inside of me whispered, _You did that on purpose to get her to stop asking you about Adrian_, but I brushed it aside.

We talked about other things for a minute, until the guys came back with the ice cream and some sodas and we all started chatting. Well, it wasn't really _all _of us. Jill caught Adrian up on her life and on Angeline's latest escapades, and they all talked a bit about Eddie's self-defense training sessions. Through all of this, Adrian was practically ignoring me. He asked Jill and Eddie questions, but not me.

I felt like I was shrinking, like a telescope folding back in on itself. What was going on? I stared at 'Out to See', struck again at the miserable feeling radiating from the painting. I wondered if he was angry at me, or if he was just sad about something. I wondered what could be making him sad, and if it could possibly be me. I didn't know if I had the kind of power that would make someone like Adrian feel anything in particular.

"Don't you think he should let me see them, Sydney?" Jill asked, startling me out of my thoughts. She must have seen the blank look on my face, because she added, "The other paintings he's been working on."

Adrian interjected, "I'm telling you, they're not very good, Jailbait."

Jill pouted. "Come on, Adrian. I saw them while you were painting them. You have to let me see them now that they're done."

"Fine, fine." Adrian couldn't resist Jill's pleading. He was always lenient with her, and even more so since the whole thing with Lee.

"You want to see them too, right, Sydney?" Jill said. "She can see them too, right, Adrian?" I stared at Jill, and she gave me a weird smile. So she was trying to get me and Adrian to talk. I wondered if she knew more than she was letting on.

Adrian paused, then appearing to relent, said, "Sure, Jailbait. Come on, Sage. What about you, Eddie? Shall we make it a parade?"

Eddie must have sensed the annoyance in Adrian's voice, because he answered, "I better stay here to guard the door, just in case. Maybe some other time."

We walked down the short hall to Adrian's room and he opened the door. The room smelled of Adrian – faintly musky, with a tinge of cologne and fresh soap. There was also the smell of wet paint, no doubt coming from the three paintings on easels in one corner. The bed was unmade, naturally, and I found myself staring at the black silk sheets and wondering what it would be like to sleep in a bed like that. There was a half-full ashtray on the bedside table, and a few more empty ice cream containers decorated the floor. Well, at least he wasn't drinking too much.

It took me only a moment to see the rest of the room, and then my gaze was arrested by the paintings. My jaw wanted to drop, but I kept my expression neutral.

"They're amazing!" Jill gushed. "I don't understand them at _all _but I just _love_ them. You're getting better every day! You should put these in an exhibition or something!"

"Not these," said Adrian. His voice was expressionless.

"What are they called?" Jill asked. "I always love your titles."

Adrian took a step towards the painting on the far left. It depicted a girl standing in the middle of an arena that looked a lot like the Coliseum. She was dressed in a white linen tank dress and lace-up gladiator sandals, and she wore an ancient-style iron helmet that covered some of her face but not her long blonde hair. She held up a sword with two hands, as if in battle. I recognized the pose as the one I had struck in the dream, in the arena, before I had realized Adrian was watching me. Now, Adrian tapped the painting and said, "I call this one, 'Nature Herself Feared to Be Conquered."

A tiny gasp of realization escaped my mouth, but neither Jill nor Adrian seemed to hear it. He had pulled a quote from the inscription on Raphael's sarcophagus, which we had also seen in the dream: "Here lies the famous Raphael, by whom Nature herself feared to be conquered while he was living, and when he was dying, she feared that she would die.' "

"Ohhhh," said Jill. "She's amazing. Does she represent Mother Nature?"

"No, Jailbait," said Adrian. Slight annoyance tinged his voice, and I hoped that Jill wouldn't pick up on it. "She represents... She's someone who won't give in to Nature. Or, who thinks too much about Nature, what is natural and what isn't. Or something. I don't know. I just know she is fighting to the bitter end, even if it kills her too."

"Coooool," said Jill. "I love it. What about this one?" She pointed to the second painting. It showed the same blonde girl kneeling by the Trevi Fountain. She was wearing that same white linen dress, but now her head was uncovered and she was barefoot. She was looking over her shoulder, but because the figure was so small, her face was indistinct. Still, an air of happiness seemed to radiate from her.

"I call that one 'When She Was Living'," said Adrian. It was another quote from the sarcophagus, sort of. And it also reminded me of what he had said when I was wading in the fountain: _I guess this is "living" for you. _I found myself suddenly angry, so angry that I wished I really were holding a sword so I could run it right through Adrian's fat head. Why? Why was he making fun of me like this? We hadn't always gotten along, but I had thought we were friends now. I had thought he understood me.

"What's the third one called?" I asked, my voice sounding harsh in the small room. The third painting showed the same girl in the white dress and gladiator sandals. Now she was standing at the top of the Spanish steps and looking down at Rome, which spread out in front of her like a quilt on a bed. All the landmarks were visible, and the sky was tinged with the pink of a setting sun. The girl was facing down the steps, so the viewer could only see her from behind, but her confident pose and the beautiful golden aura around her head gave off an air of contentment and joy.

"It's called 'Everything Will Be Alright'," said Adrian. "But I might change the name. I thought I liked it, but then I thought some more and I think it's bullshit."

"Oh no," Jill sighed, delighted. "Don't change the name. I love it. I love the painting _and_ the name. Oh, when you're done with it for school or whatever, can I have it? It's my favorite one. And I love all of them, but this one is my _favorite_. Can I hang it in my room back at school? Or if I'm not allowed to do that, can I have it for my room back at court? I really love it. No, no, no, I'll _buy_ it from you! That way you can buy more paint! Because I get an allowance from Lissa now that we're family and stuff. Oh, is the girl in the picture _Lissa?_ It looks a little like her, only Lissa is sort of taller and skinnier and I think her hair is longer and she's paler, so maybe that's not Lissa. Who is the girl, Adrian?"

"She's no one in particular," Adrian said, taking an unconcerned sip from his soda, and I felt like someone had slapped me in the face. She was me! Not "no one_."_ _Me_. Why was he pretending that it wasn't? A traitorous little voice spoke up inside of me: _Aren't you pretending things too? _ I tried to ignore it.

"I just wanted to paint these paintings," Adrian went on. "It was an exorcism, I guess. I painted them, and now I'm done. I don't know if I even want them anymore. So if you want them, you can have them, Jailbait. If you can fit them in your room, you can have all of them."

"Oh wow, thanks, Adrian, but why don't you want them? They're _beautiful_."

"I guess I just realized I have to move on." He didn't sound sulky or mean. Just sort of... cold. _This is good_, I thought_. He should move on._ But the more I thought about that, the more it confused me. Move on from what, exactly? I felt a weird emptiness, too. Something that had been inside of me, something that I had been starting to rely on, something important... it was gone. I felt weird without it, even though I couldn't articulate what it had been. It was like the way you feel when you've been wearing a watch all day and you take it off and you rub your wrist, wondering why it feels so naked. But worse.

"Well, good luck for me!" Jill seemed completely unaware of my inner turmoil, or Adrian's strange mood. "Let me call Lissa and see if she can give me an advance on my allowance." Jill took out her phone and started dialing.

"I told you, Jailbait, it's a gift," Adrian said, miserably. Jill was staring at her phone in confusion.

"No, no, I insist. You deserve it. But I'm not getting any bars here. Let me try the other room."

"Maybe it's a sign..." Adrian said, but Jill interrupted.

"I'll be right back. Lissa usually is free this time of day. She'll probably want to talk for a while to make sure that I'm not going crazy after the Lee thing" – she rolled her eyes, acting as if that were a near-impossibility – "so I might be a minute or two, sorry." She ran out of the room, leaving me and Adrian alone.

I took a step towards the door after her, then paused, not sure what was keeping me in the room. Adrian noticed my indecision.

"Well, Sage?" he said to me. "Aren't you going to go look after her? Isn't that your job? To keep an eye on us evil creatures?"

"She has Eddie," I answered.

"But he's an evil creature, too," he said. "We're all completely evil."

"Stop that," I said. "Stop feeling sorry for yourself."

"I don't feel sorry for myself. I feel... pity. For you. That you're missing out on living, because of your stupid prejudices."

Prejudice? No one had ever used that word about my beliefs before. Was I prejudiced? Surely I wasn't. I was always polite to Moroi and dhampirs... wasn't I? "What exactly am I missing out on?" I asked.

"Venice!" he said. He waved his arms around as he spoke, and paced up and down the length of his bedroom floor. "And Florence and Athens and a million other places we could go. If you just stopped being afraid of me."

"I'm not afraid of you!"

"Then why did you wake up suddenly?"

"I just... wanted to. And you're the one who needs to explain yourself, not me."

"What's to explain?" He whirled around to stare at me.

"The paintings!" I sputtered.

"Do you like them?" He smiled cynically.

"Like them?" I was incredulous. "They're... I mean... Adrian, how can you ask me if I like them? We both know what they're about..."

"Really?" He stared right at me. "_I_ have no idea what they're about. If you're so sure, maybe you can explain it to me."

"Well, we at least know who the girl in the painting is. Hint? She's not 'no one.' She's right in front of you."

Adrian took a step closer, and said in a sad, quiet voice, "She _was_ right in front of me. And then all of a sudden she was a million miles away."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means I got the hint." He was folding and unfolding his hands as he spoke, and then he clasped his arms behind his back with an air of resolution.

"Adrian," I said, exasperated. I took a step closer to him too, almost not noticing that I was doing it. "I don't drop hints. I don't know how. I never learned the art of gentle insinuations."

"Yeah? I know that. There wasn't anything very gentle about just saying, 'I want to wake up now.' Even though there was no real reason except that you and I were talking about something that actually meant something. Don't worry, I won't do any of that again. I won't bring my evil self anywhere near you."

I closed my eyes, and held them tightly shut as I spoke. "I just got scared," I said. I barely recognized my own voice.

"I knew it! You were scared of me!" A note of anger was in his words now. "Why? Oh yeah, I'm the big bad vampire. I'm not a good enough man for you. In fact, I'm not a man at all. I'm just an evil fiend."

I kept my eyes closed, feeling like I could only say this if I weren't looking at him. "You don't understand. I wasn't scared of you, not like that. I was scared because I felt so weird. You had made the same wish as me, in the fountain. And then at the steps, you were looking at me and I was looking at you, and I felt so dizzy and weird. I feel like that right now, too. Maybe it's some weird spell, or an after affect of the spirit dream, but my heart is beating hard and my skin is burning and... it's scary."

I opened my eyes, and my gaze met his. For just a few seconds, I felt like I was drowning. People _say_ that, but I really did. I felt like I was gulping for air and that there was something pulling me down, deeper and deeper.

And suddenly, _I had to kiss him. _

It was like when you have to sneeze, or that feeling when you lose your balance and you know you're going to fall. There was no denying this urge, and no time to wonder about it. I took a big step towards him and took his face in my hands, pulling him slightly downward and tilting my face upward so that our lips met. His arms had been behind his back, but at the contact he put them around my waist and _oh thank you God_ he kissed me back.

This was the first time I had kissed anyone in my entire life, so I didn't really know what I was doing, but the urge was so strong, I just couldn't be nervous or self-conscious. I opened my mouth slightly and when our tongues touched it was as if a jolt of electricity had shot through me. My tongue ran across one of his fangs, and I pulled back slightly, but then pushed the idea out of my mind and kept kissing him. The kiss deepened further, and we swayed gently on our feet.

Then he paused. He pulled away from me slightly, our lips still touching but his hands very light now on my waist. The insane urge sort of... passed. Without that weird desire controlling me, doubt crept into my thoughts. _I'm kissing a vampire,_ I thought. But I didn't want to stop. So many things had begun to make sense the minute I kissed him, and other things that had seemed to matter so much before had now ceased to matter at all. _I'm kissing Adrian, I'm kissing Adrian,_ I thought_, not a vampire._ I pressed into him again, dug my hands into his back, pulled him closer. His hands tightened again on my waist, and the kiss deepened once more. His hands strayed into my hair and up and down my back, and I ran my hands over his back and chest, enjoying the feel of the cashmere and his lean body underneath.

I felt like I was actually getting the hang of it. There was a geometry to this, an angle to hold my mouth so that I could kiss him and still breathe. And there variations on the theme. For a moment his mouth left mine, and he trailed kisses down my neck. I felt a thrill of fear, but he didn't bite me. Instead, he kissed the soft skin and I found myself gasping with the joy of it. When he brought his mouth back to mine, after a moment I kissed my way down his neck too, and he leaned his head back slightly to give me access, sighing. I could taste traces of cologne on his neck, mixed with the slight saltiness of his skin. He whispered my name, and I again kissed his lips, feeling like it would almost kill me to stop. _I can't stop_, I thought. _The second I stop, I'm going to have to think about what I'm doing. I'll just have to kiss him forever. _

Suddenly, Adrian pulled back completely, taking a step away from me. I let out a gasp of confusion, wanting to pull him back to me. We were both breathing heavily and my face felt flushed and hot. Adrian looked down at the floor, then up at me, his eyes miserable. "I'm so sorry, Sydney," he said. "I can't tell you how sorry I am." Then he took a few steps away from me and sat down heavily on his bed, his hands over his face. I was frozen in place, my mind empty of coherent thought. I felt like a computer in the middle of a systems crash.

At that moment, Jill came bounding back into the room. "She would _not _shut up but I _finally_ got off the phone! And good news! Lissa is going to give me _fifty dollars_ to buy your painting, Adrian! Isn't that cool? Now you can say you're a... professional... artist..." She trailed off, looking from Adrian to me and back again. Then she took a step back, like someone getting hit by a strong gust of air. Her eyes widened, and her hands flew to her mouth. "Omigosh," she said. "I'm sorry I interrupted..."

"You didn't interrupt anything, Jailbait," said Adrian, jumping up from his bed and speaking in a fair impression of his normal tone of voice. "Everything's fine."

"You can't lie to me," said Jill. "I can feel_..._ I _feel_... Oh God, Sydney, I'm so sorry!" She ran up to me and threw her arms around me, beginning to cry. "How will you forgive me?"

I awkwardly patted Jill's back. "It's ok, it's ok," I murmured. I looked desperately over at Adrian, and he nodded, understanding what I was trying to tell him. He closed his eyes tightly in concentration.

After a few moments, Jill's sobs slowed, then ceased. She let go of me, then looked around the room. "What _was_ that?" she asked. Neither of us answered her. "Adrian, what did you _do?_"

"He just made fun of my clothes again," I said, thinking as fast as I could in my stunned state. "It hurt my feelings a little. He apologized. It's ok." It was a lame lie, and it didn't fool her in the slightest.

"No way was it just that," said Jill. "I don't buy it. The guilt and remorse were too strong."

He was that sorry that we had kissed? Why? I was the one who should be sorry. _I_ had kissed _him_. They were going to take me away, I realized. I was a vamp-lover now for real, and they were going to lock me up.

Adrian crossed the floor to take Jill by both shoulders. He looked her right in the eyes, and said in a low gentle voice, "It wasn't important, Jill."

She wriggled a little and said, "Yes it was. You're upset."

"No, no," he said, in that same gentle voice. He kept the eye contact steady. "I'm not upset. I'm really happy, and so is Sydney. You don't need to worry about it."

"Really?"

"Really. We're fine."

"You're fine? Oh good. Then I won't worry about it. I'm glad it's not important."

"Right," he said. "We all get along. And we're glad you're our friend."

She giggled. She sounded sort of sleepy, or maybe drugged. "Ok. Me too. I'm glad you're my friends."

"Why don't you go get another scoop of ice cream with Eddie, and forget about this?"

"Ok," she said. "Sounds good. I like hanging out with Eddie." She left the room, a dazed smile on her face, leaving us alone in the room again.

Neither of us spoke for a long, long moment.

Finally, Adrian said, "If you never forgive me, I'll understand."

"I _don't_ understand," I said. "I don't understand a _thing_. Why did that happen? Why did it stop? What happened just now with Jill and why did _that_ stop?" I sounded out-of-control, and felt it, too. "Why are you apologizing, when I'm the one who kissed you? I know that it was gross and immoral and should never have happened and it goes against nature and you're right, I do fear nature, or am conquered by it, and I don't know how I got here, but also, I _was_ living, in the fountain, and just now I was living too..." I was babbling worse than Jill now, but I couldn't stop. I felt the hot tears pricking my eyes. I glanced at Adrian, but the look of concern and remorse in his eyes made me look away. "And now you're apologizing? Are you _that _sorry you kissed me? Was it that awful? And they're going to come take me away for re-education."

Adrian took a few steps forward. He tried to wipe away some of my tears, but I flinched from his touch and wiped them away myself. "I'm not sorry about kissing you," he said. "It was the exact opposite of awful, Sage. It was the best I've felt in so long. So, no, god no, I'm not sorry that we kissed. I'm sorry because I _made_ you kiss me. I didn't mean to. It was an accident."

"What?" I felt like he was speaking some foreign language that I had never studied. "I don't understand. How did you 'make' me kiss you? I don't get it. I mean, I know you're..." What? Intoxicating? Charming? The single sexiest guy I'd ever met? "– you," I finished. "But it was still my choice."

He looked away from me, then said, "I sort of… used compulsion."

I took a step back, a feeling of horror growing in me. "Compulsion?" I repeated. I began backing up until I bumped into his bed and sat down on it hard.

"I didn't mean to," he said. "But for just a moment, I did, I guess. Remember when your eyes were closed? I was staring at you, thinking about how much I wished that you would just… well, kiss me. I was wishing you would do it because I didn't have the guts to do it myself. I was thinking something like, 'Just KISS me!' I was holding myself back from touching you physically, but I guess I reached out with my mind. You opened your eyes and looked right at me as this feeling was getting so strong in me, and then you reached for me. I was so happy that you were kissing me that I didn't realize at first _why._ I was just thanking my lucky stars." He smiled slightly, and then his expression grew remorseful again. "I didn't even know I could do compulsion without speaking, but I realized a moment too late that I had done exactly that."

I didn't say anything. The blood was rushing in my ears. It sounded like a river rushing after a heavy rain.

"It's not a justification," Adrian said, miserably. He knelt down in front of the bed so that he was at eye level with me. "Not at all. Like I said, it's unforgivable. All I can say is that I didn't do it on purpose. I would _never _do something like that, not on purpose. I mean, I'm Adrian Ivashkov. I don't need to use compulsion to get girls to kiss me, you know?" He sort of smiled, but when we made eye-contact, his face grew serious again. "But… I just lost control. And the moment I realized how far I had pushed it, I pulled back."

"Oh sure," I said. "After we had been kissing for several minutes." I picked up a corner of one his silky sheets and began running my fingers back and forth over it.

"Well..." he said, walking himself forward on his knees, so that he was now only a foot or two away from me. "Not exactly. The moment I realized that I had used compulsion, I started to pull away. I consciously relaxed the compulsion hold, and I relaxed my hold on you physically, as well. I was trying to let you step away. But even after I had done that, well, I mean, you know what happened. You were there, Sage. We kept kissing. You pulled me even closer, and I just... couldn't stop. I told you, I lost control."

I remembered how, at the exact moment I had grabbed Adrian to kiss him, it had felt like something I couldn't possibly fight, how it was an almost insane urge. I remembered how moments later, that urge passed. His hands had been so light on me, and I had been the one to pull him close again. Adrian was telling the truth, I realized. I had really continued kissing him of my own free will. I started to speak, but at that moment, Eddie walked in.

"Ready to go?" Eddie asked. He was looking around the room warily. He glanced at the paintings, taking them in quickly, then looked at me sitting on the bed and Adrian kneeling a few feet away. I was pretty sure he knew that the drama level had been ratcheted up well beyond normal parameters in here, but he kept up that stony face of his. He simply gave me a look that said, "Tell me later." I looked away. I wanted to give him a look that said, "It's none of your business," but I didn't really know how to do that.

"Pretty much ready to go, yeah," Adrian said, standing again and offering me his hand to help me up, a hand which I refused.

He was doing such a good job of acting normal as we walked down the hall to the living room that I could barely believe that anything had happened. I was still digesting the compulsion thing. I knew how I'd felt when we'd broken apart, and by then he'd already stopped using compulsion. The rest of that kiss? That had been all me. No matter how sorry he was for what he'd done, and no matter how angry I was about it, I knew that I could not blame the whole thing on compulsion, not if I wanted to be honest with myself.

Part of me wanted to throw myself at him and kiss him until we were both senseless. Another part of me wanted to try out some of the attack moves I had learned from Eddie and beat him to a pulp. Another part of me wanted to curl up on the floor and sob, or just go catatonic. I was a vampire lover. My life as an alchemist was changed forever! And yet another part of me was disgusted that I was so easily taken down by a _kiss. _

"Well, we better go," I said, trying to play unaffected. "It was nice seeing you."

"Yeah, it was really nice!" said Jill. She was sitting on the couch, apparently waiting for us. She still bore a slightly dazed expression. "I'll come back soon and get the painting! Oh wait I forgot to tell you, I don't know why, I guess I got distracted..." She launched into a story about something going on back at the Moroi court, something Lissa had told her on the phone. Eddie stood around, awkwardly collecting the ice cream bowls to take them into the kitchen. I used the excuse of needing to go to the bathroom to get away from them.

I sat on the closed toilet and buried my face into one of Adrian's black bath towels, taking in his scent and wiping away a few rogue tears. I wondered if I would ever kiss him again. I wondered if his body was still as much on fire as mine was. I wondered if I was going to go to hell, or maybe to a re-education center. Then I wondered which of those would be worse.

I splashed some water on my face to help clear off the remnants of the tears, then stared at myself in the mirror. "You are a smart and tough person," I whispered to myself. "You are just falling prey to compulsion and hormones. Adrian is usually a good friend and you just got temporarily confused into thinking that he was a human like you. You'll get past this. You'll find your way back to the path of faith." Then I took a deep breath and added, "Even if that was the best few minutes of your entire life and even if you would basically sell your soul to the devil himself to have even one more minute like that." _Well, that wasn't so successful of a pep talk, _I thought. _I really have to work on that._

Driving back to Amberwood in Latte, the sheer normal-ness of Eddie and Jill's conversation made me doubt my sanity. How could they be talking about normal things when my entire world had just exploded? It's a good thing that I had made the drive from Adrian's place to the high school so many times that I could do it even in my current state.

We got back to school in time for dinner, and I choked something down without tasting it. Micah joined the three of us and I managed to participate in the conversation like a normal person. I was just on autopilot, ready to offer the usual comments about how awful the food was, how annoying it was to have so much homework, and how early we would have to get up for self-defense training. But inside, that weird feeling of a systems crash continued.

After dinner, I pinned myself down to study. All this drama didn't mean that there weren't assignments due. Anyway, the rows of chemical equations were oddly satisfying, reminding me of material I had studied ages ago. _This_ was something I understood perfectly. But my attention span only had so much strength, and after about an hour I realized I was experiencing diminishing returns. I didn't like myself like this. I had to do something.

There was only one resource I could think of to go for help and advice. I picked up my phone and typed out a text: "Hey, if you have a few minutes to talk, can you give me a call? Day or night." I hit 'send' and began pacing the room. What if she didn't call? But a few minutes later, my phone rang.

"Hey, Sydney," said the cheerful voice at the other end. "What's up? Are you ok?"

"Hi," I said. "I kissed Adrian. Sort of."

There was a long silence at the other end. "Oh," Rose said, finally. "Want to tell me the whole story?"

_Updated: September 3, 2012_


	3. I: Rose Logic

**Chapter 3: Rose Logic**

"I don't know where to start," I said.

"The beginning, maybe?" Rose suggested.

"That's not helpful," I replied. "I don't know what constitutes the beginning. The beginning of the kiss? I mean, I grabbed him. Then we kissed. Then we stopped. It sounds simple when I say it like that, doesn't it? It isn't, of course, but..."

"Let's start with this," Rose said. "When did you start _liking_ him? I mean, he's an evil creature of the night like me, right? So what's going on here?"

I paused. When _had_ I started to feel this way about Adrian? When we were captured by the Strigoi? When we investigated the tattoo parlor together? Those times when he had made me laugh, or want to punch him, or want to kill him? Was it maybe when I had first seen him on that security camera footage? "I don't know," I said. "All of a sudden, it became clear to me that I had liked him for... a while. It's like suddenly realizing that you've had a headache for a while, but you can't figure out when it started."

"Very romantic," said Rose. "He'll _love _it if you compare him to a headache."

"No, probably not," I said. "Anyway, well, I guess I'll start with the dream." I told her about the "trip to Rome," starting with the Coliseum and Adrian in his toga. I could almost feel her smirk over the phone when I told her about that. I described how we'd talked as we toured the Pantheon and the Trevi Fountain, and how we'd jumped into the cold blue water. "Adrian changed into a bathing suit for that," I mentioned.

"Very important detail," Rose said. "Speedo, or trunks?"

"Trunks," I said.

"Oh, that's a shame. I bet he could have rocked a tiny Speedo!"

"No way! I don't think I could have handled... all that... Adrian."

"Handled it?" she said, mischievously.

"Oh be quiet, you evil creature," I said, and she laughed again.

I went on to describe the Spanish steps, how we'd climbed to the top – "Adrian climbed _one hundred and thirty_ steps?" Rose interjected, wonderingly – and how, sitting at the top, he'd commented on how bright my aura was.

"And it got brighter when he touched you?" Rose asked.

"I guess so," I said. "I mean, he touched me, and then it got brighter. At least, that's according to him."

"Hmmm..." she said.

"And then... And then he said a few more things, and then I decided to wake up. And then I checked my vital signs, but they all seemed normal, so I couldn't determine the source of my increased heart rate and labored breathing. Of course, now it seems fairly obvious what was wrong with me."

"Yeah, I'd say _that_," said Rose. "What 'few more things' did he say?"

"What, just before I woke up?"

"Yep. Then."

"Well, I had just told him that he needed someone in his life who would encourage him without controlling him for once."

"Hey!" said Rose. "Are you saying that _I_ controlled him?"

"Well, what would you call that dating contract of yours?"

"Not _controlling_," said Rose. "It was his idea!"

"Well, far be it from me to comment on your love life," I said.

"Ex-love-life," she corrected. "I'm with Dimitri now. Again. Um. For sure."

"I know that. Believe me, everyone knows that."

Rose sighed. "Is Adrian still mad at me?"

"He was for a while. It sort of trailed off, though. He doesn't seem quite as bitter anymore. I mean, especially since..." I trailed off.

"He fell for you?" she supplied.

"He hasn't fallen for me," I said. "I don't know why he would feel that way about me at all."

"Why _wouldn't_ he?" Rose asked.

"I'm pretty boring and straight-laced, especially compared to you," I said. She started to object, but I interrupted. "Is it really weird to be talking about this? Was it totally inappropriate for me to call you to talk about Adrian? It was my understanding that girls discuss things like this, you know, guys and stuff, with each other, but I don't really know the protocol when we're dealing with exes."

"We—ell," said Rose, "I guess some people would think it was weird. But I guess I don't, not really. I think I would have done the same thing in your shoes."

"No, you wouldn't," I said, matter-of-factly. "You would have handled the problem on your own."

"Is that the way you see me?" Rose asked. "A one-woman army?"

"Isn't that what you are?"

"Not totally. Maybe it's the way I used to be. These days, I usually go to my friends when I need help. I go to Lissa."

"Oh," I said. "Yeah, she is your best friend, isn't she?" For some reason, that made me feel kind of left out.

"But you're my friend, too," Rose said.

"Oh," I said.

"Anyway, I'm happy to help you with this. For one thing, Adrian and I broke up a while ago, and for another, he was never... I was never planning on marrying him, you know? Also, I'm happily settled with someone else, the love of my life to be exact. And, last but not least, like I said, you're my friend. You need someone to talk to, someone who understands. I am kind of the ideal candidate because I know both of you, but I'm not involved in the day-to-day."

"Okay," I said. "That's a very cogent argument. Thanks."

"Not a problem," said Rose. "I specialize in Rose-logic. Now, so, you were telling Adrian that he needed to be with someone who inspired him without controlling him, right?"

"Right."

"And what did he say?"

"That... _I_ did that. That _I_ inspired him."

"And then what?"

"Then his voice got quieter and quieter, and we talked about the wishes we had made at the fountain, and he was sort of leaning forward, and then I just... got scared and asked to wake up."

"Hmmm," said Rose.

"Just 'hmmm?'" I said. "Is that your brilliant advice?"

"I'm still gathering intel," she said. "So, that was the dream. Sounds like a really nice dream, I have to say. He never went to that much effort for _me_ for _our _spirit dreams." She sounded comically peeved. I felt oddly jealous, knowing that she had visited Adrian in spirit dreams too.

I changed the subject slightly. "Do you buy this stuff about auras? That they get brighter under certain emotional circumstances?"

"Of course," she replied. "I used to be able to see them too. Back when I had the bond with Lissa." She sounded a little wistful. "I used to be able to see through her eyes, and when I did, I could see auras. So, yeah, I believe in them. And you know, back before we had gotten Jill back to court, when we were on the run, Sonya told me..." She hesitated. "Sonya told me how bright my aura was when I was around Dimitri. That's when I was still trying to convince myself that I wasn't still in love with him, that I could make it work with Adrian. My aura gave me away, though. It shined when I was around the man I really loved. And so, before you ask, I think it's extremely likely that your date with Adrian put a golden spark in your aura, Syd."

"Date?" I said, my voice almost cracking on the one word.

Rose laughed. "Yeah, a date!"

"That was a _date?_"

"The flirting? The flower for your hair? The ice cream? The offer to walk arm in arm? And then at the end, I am pretty sure that he was ramping up for a little good-night kiss."

"You think?"

"Of course. He was leaning closer, talking softly... I know that look."

Again, I felt a tiny spark of jealousy. All the times that Rose must have kissed Adrian! And she didn't even appreciate it, didn't appreciate her freedom to be with him. It was a freedom that I didn't have. "So," I said. "It was a date, then. I went on a date. Magically – slash - psychically. With a vampire. And it made my aura glow."

"Yeah, that sounds like what happened," she said. I could picture her looking at me like I was an idiot.

"Fantastic," I said.

"Hey, don't feel the need to hide your sarcasm around me," Rose said. "Anyway, so now I have the background. Now get to the good part. What happened today? Tell me about this _kiss_."

I told her about the visit to Adrian's, how he'd practically ignored me at first. "That sounds like typical wounded Adrian," she said. "He's a champion sulker. He must have been so hurt when you asked to wake up right when he was going to kiss you." I described the paintings, and she was surprised to know that he'd developed such a passion for art. Then I told her how we'd gone into his room to see the other paintings, and how they'd all been of me. I heard her sharp intake of breath.

"So," I said, "when Jill left to make a phone call, I asked Adrian about the paintings. We started sort of arguing, and then I closed my eyes and told him how I'd been feeling so strange, and when I opened my eyes I looked right into his and I just... had to kiss him."

I told her about how at first the kiss was so desperate, and how then the urge lessened but still didn't go away, and how Adrian had suddenly pulled apart from me and apologized for having used compulsion. I repeated most of his explanation word for word, and even told her about Jill's second-hand reaction.

"Wait, wait, wait," Rose said, when I had finished. "I missed something. What did he say out loud to compel you?"

"Nothing. He just looked at me."

"Then I don't get it," Rose said. "It can't have been compulsion. It doesn't work like that. The person has to say something out loud. Thank God, because if he really had used compulsion on you for something like that, I'd have to get on the next flight out there and kick his ass_._"

"But he said it _was_ compulsion. He thought 'kiss me' really strongly and I felt compelled to do just that. He could even feel the compulsion energy flowing through him. Perhaps humans are more susceptible to compulsion than your kind are," I said.

"You forget, I lived with humans for two years. I saw Lissa use compulsion from time to time, and humans are just like Dhampirs and Moroi. Some are more susceptible, and some are less susceptible. She even used it on me once, through the bond." She sounded wry. "I could still strangle her for that, even though it obviously turned out well in the end. Anyway, if I had to lay odds, I would guess you wouldn't be easy to sway. But... well, maybe you're just really susceptible to _Adrian."_

"I don't understand what that's supposed to mean."

"God, for a genius, you really are dense," Rose said. "Okay, listen. It's easier to use compulsion to make someone do something that isn't too different from what they really want to do anyway. I guess you were wanting to... you know, kiss him or something, and he was wanting to, too, and there was just some sort of... psychic crash. I don't really understand stuff like this. I could ask Lissa, if you want."

"Please don't," I said. "I don't know if it's that important."

"Of course it's important. It was important enough for you to call me, right?"

"It's not important, though," I persisted. "He's a vampire. I'm a human. The point is moot. Whether I'm angry at him or not, whether I... like him or not. It's disgusting. It's wrong. I mean, what are he and I going to do? Live with the Keepers? Have a brood of dhampirs?"

"You got a problem with dhampirs?"

"I didn't mean you," I said. "You're fine."

"But the rest of us are disgusting? Eddie and Dimitri are disgusting?"

"It's not that _you _are disgusting, exactly. Or Eddie, or Dimitri, or any other specific dhampir. It's just that... Look, even you said that it was weird for humans and Moroi to get together. The Keepers grossed _you_ out almost as much as they grossed me out. We all agree: relationships between humans and vampires are sick and wrong." There was a funny edge to my voice as I added, "I don't understand how I got to this point."

"I learned a while ago that sometimes, the heart just wants what it wants," Rose said. "Did I ever tell you... Of course I never told you. I never told anyone but Lissa." She paused, then went on in a rush, "I kissed Dimitri when he was still a Strigoi."

I couldn't believe what I had just heard. There was a long silence.

"I loved him so much," she went on, her voice thick with emotion. "That face, that voice, that hair, those eyes, almost the same but ringed in red. He even had the same duster! He read the same stupid Westerns! You don't know how hard it was to be around him. He was the same, but not. I loved him so much that even a fake, evil version of him was irresistible to me."

"So you... kissed him?"

"Yeah..."

"Just once, right?"

There was silence on the other end of the line.

"So, several times then?"

"Yes," said Rose, very softly.

"I'm sorry to say this," I said, "but that's really disgusting. I mean, really, really disgusting."

"Well, I'm glad I shared it with you then," she said. She sounded a little pissed off.

I took a deep breath. She was trusting me with a secret that she had only ever told Lissa. Even if it made my skin crawl, I had to do a better job of being her friend. "Like I said, I'm sorry. I'm not really good at padding the truth, you know? But I guess I understand what you're saying. You loved him when he was alive. It must have been... really hard. I've never lost someone I loved. I'm... I'm really glad that you got him back. I won't tell anyone what you told me. I'm sorry I said it was disgusting."

"Thank you," Rose said.

"Even though it kind of is."

Rose laughed. "You really _aren't_ good at padding the truth, are you?"

"No. But neither are you, normally. That's one of the reasons I wanted to talk to you about this. I knew you would tell me the truth as you saw it."

"I'm trying to," Rose said. "This is a really weird subject."

"I still don't understand the point of your anecdote, though," I said. "Are you trying to say that if you could love a Strigoi, then I can love a Moroi? Because I'm not sure I buy that."

"That's not what I'm saying! I didn't really love him as a Strigoi. I loved him, and then he became a Strigoi. Or... that's not quite it. Look, what I'm saying is, love is just about the strongest force on earth. I saw the tiniest, tiniest traces of my Dimitri inside of that monster, and that's why I went to such insane lengths to get him back. I guess I just feel like love is worth fighting for. Love makes you do crazy things. I kissed an evil monster out of love. And compared to a Strigoi, a Moroi barely tips the needle on the evil scale."

"Is this more Rose-logic?" I asked.

'Definitely," she answered. "Okay, _this_ is my point. I know what it is now. It's this: When you're in love, you're in love. There's no point in fighting it or denying it."

"I'm not in love with Adrian," I said. "I barely know him. I only kissed him because of the compulsion."

"And then kept kissing him after he turned the compulsion off because..."

"Because of hormones."

Rose laughed. "You're pretty good at Rose-logic too. I'm going to start calling it 'Sydney-logic.' I'm impressed." She paused, and then blurted out, "Oooh! This is kind of random, but I just figured out what it's like!"

"What _what_ is it like?" I asked dryly.

"You and Adrian, the compulsion thing. It reminds me of that thing from chemistry class. _You_ know what it's called. A catalytic converter?"

"That's a car part, Rose. Are you talking about a catalyst?"

"Yeah, that. The thing that makes the reaction happen with less energy or heat or whatever."

"You're very articulate, you know that?"

"Shut up, I'm helping you," she said, cheerfully. "So, you dump in the catalyst to the beaker or whatever, and it makes the reaction happen quicker, right? But it would have happened anyway?"

"That's more or less how catalysts work, yeah."

"So, that's you and Adrian! You wanted to kiss him, but there was a... a... block, slowing you down."

I thought about that. Rose was not over-educated, but she was smarter than most people gave her credit. "Let me understand this. You think that Adrian's compulsion wave just lowered my activation energy? And I responded by doing what I wanted to do anyway?"

"Yeah, that. 'Activation energy.' And then, poof! You were making out!"

"Voila and eureka," I said.

"Because otherwise," continued Rose. "It'd be kind of... gross. A guy _making_ a girl kiss him."

"Yeah," I said. "It would be."

"And like I said, I'd kick his ass."

"And I would enjoy watching that," I said. We both laughed.

"At least..." Rose said. "At least he stopped. Adrian has really strong compulsion, you know. If he wanted to, he could make someone get down on all fours and bark like a dog, or make them give him all their money, or think they're seeing things that aren't really there. I mean, if he ever wanted to hurt someone, he'd be able to. That's one of the wonderful things about him. He has all that power, and he almost never uses it, except to help people. Like, it really was the right thing to calm Jill down like that. She shouldn't have been exposed to those emotions."

"Adrian's the complete opposite of Keith then," I said, and then actually put a hand to my mouth. _Stupid stupid stupid..._

"Keith?" Rose had met Keith briefly at the beginning of the assignment. "That asshole? What did he do?"

"Nothing," I said.

"Come on, Sydney. Tell me."

Something about the calm, firm tone of her voice reminded me that I could trust her. "He hurt a girl," I said. "He forced her to... Someone I care about. My... sister." I paused for a moment.

"The shit," said Rose, emphatically. "I always knew I didn't like him. And I'm so sorry about your sister. Is she ok now? Do you want me to find Keith and do something really nasty to him?"

"She's doing better now, thank you," I said. "In any case, it's been taken care of."

"Oh, is that so! And I bet you're the one who took care of it, am I right?"

"Could be." I tried to keep the satisfaction out of my voice, but it was almost impossible.

"What did you do to him?"

"Well, the Bible teaches us to take an eye for an eye. So..."

"Omigod, his EYE!" Rose nearly shouted. "I always thought that the whole 'Strigoi took my eye' story was super fishy!"

"Ok, Ok," I said. "Shhhh!"

"Oh, I see now," she giggled. "Unlike _him_! He doesn't _see_ so well anymore!" She was actually letting out peals of laughter at her own joke, and I held the phone slightly away from my ear. Finally she calmed down enough to speak again. "You're kind of a bad-ass, Sydney. I won't underestimate you ever again. That is so awesome."

"I didn't call you to talk about this," I said.

"Well, ok, ok. You don't have to then," she said. "Although technically, I called you. But I know what you mean. And I'm on your side, if you need anything else in the future."

"Thanks," I said.

"And seriously, from what I'm understanding about Keith? Adrian _is_ the exact opposite. He would never do anything like that."

"I know," I said. And the second I said it, I knew it was true. Adrian may have made a mistake, but that didn't make him a bad person. He hadn't meant to hurt me, and he had come clean about what he'd done.

"And I doubt he'd ever do it again," Rose said. "Not now that he knows what he's capable of."

"So... I should forgive him?"

"It's hard to be mad at someone for a _thought. _If it were me? I think I would forgive him."

"But I'm not you."

"Good thing! I think one of me is enough," Rose said, laughing.

"Adrian would disagree," I said. "He'd love it if one of you could stay with Dimitri and he could have the other one."

Rose was quiet for a moment. "Adrian and I couldn't have worked if there were a hundred of each of us," she said. "It sounds like he's starting to understand that."

Just as she spoke, my phone beeped. "Hold on," I told Rose. "I just got a text message." I was glad that the alchemists paid for top-of-the-line phones, because I was able to read the text without getting off the line with Rose.

"Is it from Adrian?" Rose asked.

"Yeah," I said.

"Well?"

"It says, 'Can I talk to you tonight after you go to sleep? You pick the place, ok? If you don't want me to visit tell me.' What does that mean?"

"A spirit dream?" Rose suggested.

"Obviously," I said. "But what does he mean, 'you pick the place'?"

"I'm not totally sure, but I think it means that he'll let your subconscious choose where to meet."

"Oh."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don't know. Maybe I should tell him to leave me alone."

"You'd be within your rights," Rose said. "What do you _want_ to do? Do you _want_ to see him?"

I considered it. "I guess I do."

"Even though he's an evil creature of the night?"

"Even though," I said, heavily.

"Even though it means meeting in an evil spirit dream?"

"In for a penny, in for a pound," I said. What was I getting myself into?

"Well then, go to sleep, girl! It's late by your schedule anyway, right?"

I looked at my watch. It was almost 1 in the morning. "Pretty late," I said.

"Ok. Listen, I'm really glad you called me, Sydney. Or texted me, or whatever. I know it's a little awkward, but, well, Adrian is a really special guy. He deserves someone who understands him, and I know he'll make the right girl really happy. If it's you, I'll be really glad. Moroi, human, at some point... we're all just people. So, go, get some sleep, and sweet dreams!"

"I'll try," I said.

"Yoda says, 'Do or do not. There is no try.'"

"Who's Yoda?" I asked.

"Omigod, Sydney. And you think _I'm _the unnatural one? Just call me tomorrow to tell me how it went, ok?"

I was surprised at how concerned she was. Rose really was a good person, and a good friend. How had I ever thought she was frightening or disgusting? I'd much rather spend time with her than with someone like Keith, or most of the kids at Amberwood, to be honest. Being 'human' was clearly not the primary criteria for being a good friend, which was very hard for me to fully take in.

I said goodnight to her, promising to call her tomorrow, then got ready for bed and tried to calm myself down enough to go to sleep.

Where should I meet Adrian? I tried to think about where I would most like to be, and as I lay in bed, running over the options, I drifted off to sleep... and found myself, as expected, in the middle of a spirit dream. I just wasn't expecting to be _here._

_Updated: September 3, 2012_


	4. I: The Forest and the Door

**Chapter 4: The Forest and the Door in the Tree**

I was in my pine forest. Well, _forest _might be a generous term for it. It was really just a stand of pine trees near my house in Utah, a place where I had often gone to hide when I was a child. I had loved the feel of the soft carpet of pine needles underfoot, the sweet smell of the trees, and the silence, the wonderful blessed silence. It was the only place that I could go where no one would find me, where no one would yell at me, where I could think about something other than chemicals and verb conjugations and evil. It was a place where I could just find a pinecone and pick off each hard petal, one by one, and be at peace.

Being back in my pine forest now, even if it was just in a dream, made me feel calm and clear-headed. It was a spring day, and light filtered down from between the branches of the trees. I could smell the pine and hear the birds chirping softly. It was nearly impossible to think of this place as evil in any way, and my lingering resistance to spirit-dreams took another hit. Anything that could bring me back to my forest couldn't be evil.

I was still wearing the tank top and pajama bottoms I had been sleeping in, which was exactly what I wanted to be wearing, but I was barefoot, so I waved towards my feet and made my favorite flip flops appear. As I slid them on, I heard footsteps nearby and turned to see Adrian come out from behind a tree. All he had on was a pair of blue plaid flannel boxers, and I wondered if right now, his body was asleep in his silky bed in the same thing. He didn't say a word, didn't comment on the surroundings, just came forward and took my hands in his. I don't know why, but it seemed like the most natural thing in the world to just stand there holding hands for a few moments, both of us looking down at the forest floor as if afraid to look in each other's eyes.

"This is my pine forest," I said finally, looking up at him. "It's my... safe place."

"I understand," he said. He took both my hands in one of his, and used his other hand to tuck a stray strand of my hair behind one my ears. His touch was light, but it set off shock waves through me. "I have places like that, too," he said. "They aren't forests, but... I still understand."

We were silent again for a while, holding hands, and we both inched forward slowly until we were touching foreheads. We stayed like that for a moment. Then he put one arm around my waist, pulling me even closer, and I leaned my face against his chest, letting my arms hang limp by my sides. He used his free hand to stroke my hair. I could hear his heart beating in his chest. Being that close to his bare skin reminded me of the crazy feelings that had been rushing through me back in his bedroom, but for the moment I was content to stay right here, listening to his heart, breathing in his scent.

I didn't really _want_ to talk. I didn't want to think about our fight, or even the kiss. I just wanted to stay like this, with Adrian, here in my sweet smelling pine forest, where life was forever on pause and no one was ever mad at me for not being good enough.

Finally, he spoke. "I swear," he whispered near my ear, his breath ruffling my hair. "What I did? I never used compulsion like that to... get closer to a girl. I never did that before, and I'll never do it again. I would never hurt someone like that."

"I know," I said. Because I did. It was obvious, if you knew Adrian at all. We both leaned back to look each other in the eye, our arms around each other's waist.

"I didn't even know I could do compulsion without speaking," he said. "I mean, you saw. When I used compulsion on Jill to calm her down, I had to use words and a lot of energy to convince her that everything was ok. It's difficult to use compulsion, though it's easier to convince someone of something they'd rather believe."

That was pretty much what Rose had said, but when Adrian said it, the implications were too strong to ignore. "Really?" I raised an eyebrow. "Was I _easy _to convince?"

"I didn't mean it _that_ way. I just meant that Jill… and, well, God, Sydney, you know what I meant!"

"Oh, be quiet a minute, Adrian," I said. "Just be quiet. I'm trying to forgive you here, and you're messing it up." I saw a smile pull at the corners of his mouth, and then I lay my cheek against his chest again, and he gave me a tight squeeze.

I thought about my conversation with Rose. It was obvious that Adrian hadn't even quite known what he was doing when he had used his psychic energy to affect me. If he had really meant to compel me, he could have done a lot more than he had actually done, and he could have lied about it later, too. And the truth was that I probably _had_ been easy to convince. I _had_ wanted to kiss him. It was just something that was buried so deeply, so completely, that I didn't have access to it. It had been sneaking up on me for weeks, maybe months. And now I couldn't ignore it. "Like a headache," I muttered under my breath.

"You have a headache?" he asked. Darn that crazy vampire hearing!

"No," I said. "I was just thinking out loud."

"Oh," he said, clearly confused.

I pulled away from him and began pacing around in a circle. I was still trying to process all this. I knew that I could forgive him – that in fact, I already _had_ – but telling him as much meant opening up the Pandora's box that was the kiss. If I forgave him about the accidental compulsion, would that mean things would go back to how they had been, before the kiss? Or would they be... more like they were now, with us hugging and holding hands and stuff?

I guess the silence finally got to him, and he said, "Well, if you can't forgive me, I understand. I'm a shit, Sydney, and pretty useless, really. Not good enough for someone like you."

I whirled around and walked quickly over to him. I actually poked him in the chest as I said, "Don't say that. Don't ever say that, especially not in my pine forest." He stared in surprise as I went on. "Don't you understand? This is where I went to get away from people who said things like that about me. I won't let you say it about yourself. You're wonderful. Even if you make mistakes. You're _wonderful_."

The minute I said it, I blushed bright pink. I couldn't believe that those words had come rushing out of my mouth! I was so sure he was going to tease me about it, the way he had when I had said that he was brilliant, but he didn't. He didn't even tease me about me blushing. All he did was smile and say, "Ok, ok, fierce girl! Put down your sword." He took my hands and squeezed them, then dropped them. "I won't say something like that again. I'm glad to know you don't think I'm a complete fuck-up."

"I don't think you're a... you know. A mess. And I guess I can forgive what happened. You didn't mean to do it, and really, we both lost control there for a minute."

He grabbed me in a big hug, actually lifting me off the ground. "Cool, Sage! Cool!" he said, swinging me around. "Thank you so much! You're better than I deserve." He kissed my cheek and I stiffened and pulled away, even though the touch of his lips on my skin had set off a chain reaction of excitement through my entire body. He noticed my reaction and set me down, studying my face.

"Neither of us _deserves_ the other one," I said. "The bigger problem here is that you're a vampire, Adrian." Hearing the words out loud made me wince, even though I was the one saying them.

"I know, I know," Adrian said. "Evil creature of the night, falling for a brilliant, brave, innocent human. We're like beauty and the beast, only we're both beauties." He gave me a rakish grin, but the smile didn't reach his eyes.

"You think I'm brave?" I said.

"Oh, so you buy brilliant and beautiful?" he asked.

"I didn't say that. I just don't recall a specific instance in which I was exceptionally brave."

He took on a dramatic tone. "Don't you remember when we were in the clutches of the Strigoi? And you, fair maiden, let me hold your hand." He added, in his normal voice, "I took a lot of comfort from knowing you were there. I think that was when it really started for me. When I started to feel... well, you know. Like this." He looked a little embarrassed, which surprised me. Nothing about this conversation could be easy for him either, I realized.

"You comforted me too," I said. "I don't know if I would have made it without you." He was looking at me, his expression so tender that it almost undid me, but I kept going. I put my hands on my hips and said what I thought I _had_ to say. "But I'm human and you're not. That kiss was a mistake."

"I wouldn't call it a mistake," he said. His gaze on me made me feel warm all over, so I looked over his shoulder at some trees, trying to identify the species.

"What was it then, if it wasn't a mistake?" I asked. I had identified the tree as a _pinus ponderosa scopulorum_, a Rocky Mountain Ponderosa Pine.

"It was just something that had to happen, for us to get to this point. Because we had to talk about this, Sage."

"There's nothing to talk about. You vampire, me human. End of story." I still wasn't looking at him. I was still looking at the pine tree. I was hoping that no beetles had eaten their way into the thick bark.

"Then what are we doing here? Sydney?" There was an edge to his voice, and I looked at him. "Why are we… holding hands? Holding… each other? Why are we talking in circles? If there's nothing more to talk about, then why don't we admit that this is an impossible dream, and wake up?"

"We probably should," I said. Neither of us moved an inch. "Look," I said. "We're friends, and sort-of coworkers. We… had a traumatic experience together. And then we hung out a bit too much and lost our way. And we had a sort of… physical reaction. It was a one-time thing. It can't happen again."

"So what are you suggesting? That we ignore each other?"

"No, of course not. We're friends. We should just… go back to that. I mean, do you really want to be involved with a human? Doesn't the idea sort of… weird you out? Even a little?"

"It's not something that I ever thought I'd end up doing, no," he admitted. "You're the first human I ever really got to know, and getting to know you changed all my preconceptions about what is and what isn't ok. I feel like… it's worth it to try. But if you really feel like you can't, I'll have to respect your choice. I guess maybe I can try to be your friend." Taking a step forward, he took my hand and held it, the way he had held it the night the Strigoi had captured us.

Something about the way it felt to hold his hand reminded me of that night. I had been pretty much ready to die that night. Well, not _ready_ to die, but _expecting_ it. And Adrian's touch had made me feel better. It had made me feel peaceful. There was something important about that…. I pushed the memory from my mind.

"What if we thought about it this way," Adrian said. "Maybe it can't happen in the waking world. But this is just a dream. It's not even really happening." He gave me one of those smiles calculated to melt me, and I rolled my eyes.

"Don't try to get off on a technicality," I said, pulling my hand away.

"Hey, you can't blame a guy for trying to get off," he said, and I punched his arm lightly. "Ouch!" he said, laughing.

"I didn't hurt you," I said. "I didn't use nearly enough force or momentum to cause you any injuries."

"That's what _you_ think," he said, pouting.

"If by 'hurting you' you're referring to what I was saying before, that's not fair," I said. "Don't blame me for this situation. It's just the facts. It can't work, even if..." I trailed off and looked away.

"Even if –?"

"Even if nothing. It simply can't work." I had identified a small shrub nesting in the shade of the tree as a Wood's Rose. Why was it always roses? As I stared at it, I saw it shimmer and disappear. _Good_, I thought.

Adrian was still talking. "That's just your prejudice talking again."

"I'm not prejudiced! We are legitimately different. It's wrong to do this."

"We aren't doing anything." He grabbed my shoulders and made me look at him, but I pulled out of his grasp.

"Still. It's wrong to... feel this."

"Ah-ha! So you admit you feel something!"

"Irrelevant. It's wrong."

"Says who? Your friends at the alchemists? The same ones who authorized Keith to be a complete asshole? The ones who had you convinced that I'm every bit as evil as Strigoi?" He reached out a hand to stroke my cheek. "The ones who marked you with a tattoo that keeps you from being able to speak freely?" He looked around the forest, then said, with a touch of quiet anger, "The ones who made you so miserable as a child that you had to come here to hide?" I didn't say anything in response, and Adrian went on, his voice very soft now: "It must have been kind of lonely."

"You don't know anything about me," I whispered. I knew that the words weren't true, but I couldn't stop myself from saying them.

"I think I do," he said. "I don't know how, since we haven't known each other very long, but I feel like I know you. At the very least, I want to know more about you. Who knows, Sage?" His usual jocular tone returned. "Maybe when we get to know each other, we'll hate each other. We'll just be enemies who make out from time to time." He winked at me.

"That won't happen," I said.

"I know," he said, with a big grin. "We'll never be enemies." He ignored my exasperated sigh. "Come on, Sage," he said, grandly. He let go of me and began waving his arms around to emphasize his point. "If you don't want to make out and you don't want to wake up, then just… hang with me for now." He looked around us, and then a red flannel blanket appeared on the ground a few feet away. He sat down on it, patting the space next to him for me to sit down too. "Come on, let's just talk, as 'friends.' " He made air-quotes as he said "friends." "I wanted to ask you about something that you said. Two things, actually."

I took off my flip-flops and sat down on the blanket, not next to him but opposite him, folding my legs up Indian style. "Ok," I said. "Just for a minute. Then I have to wake up. So, what did I say?"

"Well, first, you said that you and I made the same wish at the fountain...?"

"Yeah," I said. "To the very word. We both wished that everything would be alright."

"Weird," he said. "I guess great minds think alike, huh?"

"And fools seldom differ," I answered.

"But don't you think," he went on, unruffled. "Don't you think that two people making the same wish at the same time would make it come true?"

"I'm not an expert on wishes," I said.

"_I _think it would. And I _am_ an expert on wishes."

"Really," I said, incredulous.

"Absolutely," he said. "And I think everything _will_ be alright." He smiled, and our eyes met again. I suddenly had a feeling a lot like I had had before, in his room, right before I had kissed him, that feeling like I was drowning in his green eyes. I shook the feeling off.

"What's the other thing?" I asked.

"What?" he said. He sounded spacey, and I realized that, as hard as it was for me to fathom, I was having the same effect on him that he was having on me.

"The other thing. You said there were two things you wanted to ask me about."

"Oh yeah, the other thing. You said something about people taking you away for 're-education'. Is that really... a _thing_? Do they do that?"

"Yes," I said. "They do."

"What, a bunch of guys in black boots stomp into your room in the middle of the night, bundle you into a straight jacket, and drive off in a black van to take you to some basement, where they show you old Dracula movies until you crack?" He was trying to keep his tone light, but the look on my face stopped him short. "Wait, is that _actually_ it?"

"It's close enough," I said. I paused, then added, "I don't know what color boots they wear."

He stared at me. "Sage," he said. "That was a joke!" He chuckled.

"I have made jokes before," I said, huffily.

"Yes, and most of the time you have no clue when you're doing so. It's one of the many things I adore about you. Anyway, so this 're-education' thing... What happens? I mean, do you know anyone who actually went through 're-education'?"

"One person. I didn't know him well, but after he came back from re-education, he was only half-alive. I've heard things, but I don't really know what they do there."

"Wow," he said. "I knew the alchemists were a bunch of lunatics, but I had no idea. God, Sydney. Who are you mixed up with?"

"That's what they would say, if they saw me with you," I said. "And if they had seen that kiss?"

"They'd be panting for air?" Adrian suggested. "I mean, that was _some _kiss. It should have been filmed for posterity."

"If they'd seen that kiss, that'd be it for me," I said. "They'd drag me off to a re-education center before you could say 'vamp-lover.' By the time I came out, I'd be lucky if I even remembered my last name."

"It's Melrose," said Adrian. I rolled my eyes at him. "Hey, just trying to be helpful." He crawled a little toward me and put his hands on my shoulders in a mock-paternal way. "In all seriousness, if they take you away, I will get an elite team of jail-breakers and ass-kickers to come save you." He brushed the hair back from my face. "I won't let anything happen to you. There's nowhere on earth that they could hide you from me. As soon as you fell asleep, I'd find you. You could tell me your location, and my team would be off and running."

"Who would lead the team?" I asked. "Rose?" I couldn't stop myself from asking. It was like having a loose tooth. I just couldn't leave it alone.

He stiffened slightly, but answered me. "_I _would lead the team, of course. I am a complete bad ass, you know. But yeah, I'd probably include Rose on the team. I'd have a hard time keeping her away! She likes you." I smiled. I don't know why, but knowing that someone like Rose wanted to be my friend sort of made me feel special. It was confusing to have such warring feelings of jealousy and admiration for one person. "Look," Adrian went on. "I'm mad at her for cheating on me. But I've come to terms with the fact that she's happier with Belikov. And I've come to realize that maybe I'd be happier with someone else someday. Rose was always ready to write me off, like everyone else is. I need someone who... gets me." He leaned closer and put his hand on my chin, tilting my face so that I had to look him in the eyes.

"I'm glad to hear that," I said. With him so close, it was hard to catch my breath. "I'm happy for whoever it turns out to be."

"Me too," he said. "Lucky girl. She gets to be with Adrian Ivashkov."

"Adrian Melrose," I corrected. He was so close now. _I should move_, I told myself firmly. I should get away from his eyes and his scent and his bare skin. "Um, Adrian, we should stop sitting so close. We're just confusing ourselves."

"Confusing ourselves?" he repeated, but he dropped his hand and scooted a little away from me on the blanket. "Are you confused?"

"I just mean, we can't keep pretending that this can go any further. If things were different, maybe. But they're not. It's not just because of the re-education centers, either. It's my whole career with the alchemists that's on the line. I'd be the shame of the entire community if I gave in to this. It just can't happen."

Adrian took a deep breath. "I'll send you home then," he asked, after a pause. When I didn't say anything, he asked, "Do you want to wake up?"

"No," I said, miserably.

"Well, what _do_ you want?" He sounded exasperated.

"I don't know!" I almost shouted. A few birds flew away, startled by my loud voice.

Neither of us said anything for a few minutes. Then I sat up on my heels, facing him from just a few inches away. I don't know why, but I reached over to him and touched his face, running my fingers over every line and angle. We stared at each other, and there was that falling feeling I always got, a vertigo that defied explanation.

My thoughts returned to that moment that we both thought we were going to die, when the Strigoi had us captive. I had been glad that Adrian was there with me. I mean, not in the sense that I was glad that he was going to die too, but in the sense that I was glad I that I was with him. And that was it. When I had thought I was going to die, there was no one else I wanted to be with more than I wanted to be with him, no one else's hand I wanted to hold instead. If he was who I had wanted to be with when I was dying, why couldn't I let myself be with him when I was living?

Sitting here with him in the forest, examining every contour of his face, I wanted to tell him all this, tell him how much he had come to mean to me in such a short period of time. But that would be admitting that I had developed romantic feelings for a vampire. I opened my mouth to speak, closed it again, then sputtered out, "This kind of sucks." I was tearing up again. What was it with me that I was always bursting into tears these days? Why couldn't I say anything coherent? I think Adrian sort of understood what I was feeling, though, because he pulled me into another hug.

After a minute or two, he let go of me, and we both sat back on the blanket, a few feet away from each other. Maybe to distract me, he spoke up. "I like this place," he said, gesturing around at the trees. "The smell of real pine trees is a lot better than my pine cleanser."

I looked around at the forest, and smiled. "Yeah. The smell may have been my favorite part as a kid. It reminded me of Christmas."

"My favorite holiday! I love all that figgy pudding, deck the halls shit."

"You do?"

"Of course I do! I'm not a monster."

I laughed. "It's so hard to picture you in a Christmas sweater, hanging up a stocking..."

"Well, I don't wear Christmas sweaters, so you're sort of right about that. But the rest of it? Sure thing. I'm on that like a bonnet. What about you? Big Christmas person?"

"Kind of. When I was little, I loved it. The tree, the presents, the cookies..."

"What did little Sydney get as presents? New chemistry sets?"

"Not usually," I said. "I always had a top-of-the-line model anyway and didn't need a new one for Christmas."

"Of course," he said, laughter in his voice.

"I guess I usually got books and clothes. You know, normal stuff."

"Books and clothes? What kid wants that? What about toys?"

"I didn't want toys."

"Come on, Sage. There must have been something you wanted as a kid."

"There was never really anything I _wanted_," I said. "I like cars, I guess. I mean, once I got old enough I wanted a car. But... other than that? Nothing, really."

"I used to be rich," he said, wistfully. "Before my dad cut me off. Time was that I could have bought you anything your little heart desired. I could have gotten you a Porsche. Or a Lamborghini."

"That's very nice of you to almost offer me that," I said. "But I really don't need a car now. I have Latte. It's big enough to drive around all of you, which is what I need it for."

"But what about a car for you? Something that you like? Something with a bit more speed and verve?"

"It's just not in the cards right now," I said.

"So as a kid, you never got the things you wanted. And now as an adult, you still don't get the things you want. Sounds like serious bullshit. Good thing you met me. Sometime we'll go to a race track together, even if it's just in a dream. Maybe you can drive one of them."

"That'd be fun," I said, unable to fake much enthusiasm. That should have been something I would like, but right now, it didn't sound right.

"Okay, so that's not what you really want. What _do_ you really want? I'll try to get it for you, Sydney. I don't know how, since I'm broke now, but I'll do what I can. I want you to be happy."

I tried to remember the last time anyone had said those words to me. _I want you to be happy._ Maybe my mom? She usually said things more like, "I want you to be safe." Certainly not my dad. Did anyone in my life want me to be happy? Rose did, I realized. She had pretty much said so. And Jill seemed to want to see me happy. Why was it that the only people who wanted me to be happy weren't human?

"I am happy," I said, and it was almost comical to hear me say it when I sounded so miserable.

"What would make you happi_er_?" Adrian asked.

"Happier?" I repeated, stupidly.

"Because if this is happy, well, it's not... _happy_."

"I would be _happier_ if the alchemists promoted me and got my dad off my case," I said. There was a growing heat inside me, an anger I hadn't let myself feel in so long that I had almost forgotten it. "I would be _happier_ if my sister Zoe weren't an alchemist too. I would be _happier_ if Keith were dead in a ditch, for what he did to my sister Carly."

"You should tell me about that sometime," Adrian said. His voice was gentle, but insistent. "I want to hear about it, I swear. I'll kill the guy myself if you want me to. But you're not answering my question. What do you want for yourself? Not to please or appease or protect someone else. For _yourself_. Because whatever it is, I'll get–"

He stopped short when I sat up suddenly on my heels. For a second, I really felt like the warrior girl he had painted, the one who stood ready to fight in the gladiator arena, sword drawn. I wasn't fighting for my life; I was fighting to _live_.

"You," I said. My voice was unrecognizable to myself. "I want you. I want to kiss you again. More than I ever wanted anything else, my whole life."

"Well then, fierce girl," he said. His voice was gentle, with not even the slightest trace of mocking humor. "I'm right here." He sat up on his heels too, so he was just an inch from me, and I understood that the last inch was up to me.

It was one of those times in life that if you take too long to think about what you have to do, you'll just start to feel paralyzed. So I pulled everything inside of me as tight as a bowstring, and then I flew at him like an arrow. I knocked him over on the blanket, my lips pressed against his, my legs straddling his torso, one of my hands supporting my weight on the blanket and the other one clutching his shoulder. My shyness and inexperience warred with my need, and I opened my mouth slightly, surprised and thrilled to get that same electric jolt when our tongues touched. I opened my mouth wider and so did he. My tongue brushed past one of his fangs and I forced myself to just keep going, mentally noting where exactly it was. Avoiding his fangs seemed like the best approach. After a minute or two, I attacked his neck, loving the way he reacted. After a moment he was breathing heavily, but managed to gasp out, "I thought... I would have to search the globe for your missing teddy bear or something." I didn't answer. I was too intoxicated with him for speech to be possible.

Apparently, his powers of speech were deserting him too, because he gave a mock-growl and rolled us both over so that he was on top of me, kissing me so hard I could barely breathe. After a moment he brought his mouth down to my neck again. I clutched his back, almost unable to stand it, the amazing feelings shooting through me. But that fear returned – would he bite me?

"Adrian," I whispered.

"Hmm?"

"Don't bite me."

He stopped short, then looked me right in the eyes. "I won't ever bite you. Not with my fangs, anyway. Not unless you ask me to," he added.

"I won't," I said.

"That's fair," he said. "I wouldn't expect you to." He was leaning on one elbow and with his free hand he was absent-mindedly stroking my hair. Then he leaned forward and kissed me again, and I lost track of a minute or two.

After a while, we both leaned back slightly, both of us needing to catch our breath.

"So?" I asked. "How's my aura?"

"So bright that I can't look directly at it," he said, and I giggled. We sank back on the blanket, and there was no space between us for a long time after that.

I had known that kissing was the inspiration for poetry and art and music, and that it required 34 different muscles. I had known that people my age seemed obsessed with making out. But I had always thought people were exaggerating. I didn't know how much it could mean to be with someone who you really cared about, just enjoying the touch of one another. I loved the feel of his skin, the sounds he made when I kissed him, and the look on his face when we pulled away and stared in each other's eyes.

What sounds really dumb to say, though, was that it was _fun._ It was meaningful and it was exciting and it was engrossing, yes, but it was also fun. And when we finally disengaged, I wanted to just laugh or sing or dance or something with all the joy that was running through me. I knew that Adrian was… uncomfortable, I guess is the polite way to say it. And honestly, I was affected in much the same way, though it wouldn't have been as obvious to someone looking at me. But I was happy despite my discomfort. We lay back on the blanket, holding hands and looking up at the trees.

"That was a pretty monumental make-out session," Adrian said.

"Yeah. I just abandoned a few of my fundamental beliefs, for you," I said. "No pressure."

"Oh, of course not, none. Though you know, you could always just dump me and go back to hating Moroi." I couldn't figure out from his tone whether he was at all serious.

"That'll never happen," I said.

"You'll never hate Moroi?" he asked.

"Never," I said, though that wasn't what I had meant and both of us knew it.

"Good," he said. He squeezed my hand.

"Am I crazy," I said, "or is the sun setting?" There was a pink tinge to the bits of sky we could see between branches.

"Well, you _are_ crazy," he said, "but yeah, the sun is also setting. It's getting late. It's almost time for you to wake up. In fact, come on. Let's go to sleep." He stood up.

"Ok, um, what?" I sat up and stared at him.

"Technically, you need to wake up," he said. "So, come on. I want to try something."

He walked over to a big tree a few feet away, which now had a modern looking door in its trunk. He opened the door and held it open wide, and I could see that on the other side of the door was his bedroom.

"Ah," I said. "You're trying something." I was trying to make a joke, but I think my real nervousness came through in my voice.

"Not like _that,_ Sage," he said, laughing a little. "Trust me!"

"Alright, alright," I said, and walked over to the tree. He held the door open for me with a bow, and I began to walk through it.

"Wait," I said. "I forgot my flip-flops." I gestured to them, sitting on the ground near the blanket, and Adrian started to go get them, not realizing my intent. But I imagined them walking themselves over to the tree, and that is exactly what they did.

"Wow," said Adrian. "You're getting good at this dream manipulation stuff."

"It's not difficult," I said. "It's sort of like... geometry and physics." I slipped my feet into the flip-flops and walked through the door. Adrian followed after me and closed the door behind us. We were in his room now, and Adrian immediately leaped onto his unmade bed and patted the space next to him.

"Come on, lie down here with me," he said.

"I'm not going to..." I started to say, but he cut me off.

"And who says that _I'm_ going to either? You have a very high opinion of yourself, you know. Not undeserved, of course. But come on! Just lie down. I promise I will be a gentleman."

I hesitated, but the truth was, I really did trust him. I slipped back out of the flip-flops and lay down on one side of the bed. We both got onto our sides so that we were facing each other, and pulled the sheets and blankets over us. I was astonished at how quickly things had changed. Just twenty-four hours ago I hadn't ever kissed anyone, and now here I was crawling into a bed with a guy. A vampire, to be exact. _Not a vampire, _I said to myself. _Adrian_. _I'm crawling into bed with Adrian_.

"What are we doing here?" I asked.

"We're going to go to sleep," he said. "You'll see. I'm going to try to ease both of us into normal sleep. Then you'll wake up when your alarm goes off, and I'll wake up... sometime this afternoon, probably." I laughed a little, and we got a little closer. We still weren't touching, though. I felt like I had to almost whisper, as if someone was going to come in and tell us to be quiet.

"I've never slept in a bed with silk sheets," I said.

"You should try it sometime," he said, and I smiled.

"Is your... body... asleep right now?" I asked.

"Yeah, pretty much. I mean, not 100%, you know? I have to be awake to initiate the spirit dream, usually, but then I fall asleep. When I break the connection, I wake up. And so does the other person, I'm pretty sure."

"I woke up after I left Rome," I said. "I couldn't fall back asleep afterward."

"Right," he said. "It's annoying. So, I had an idea. What if we went to sleep in the dream? Then maybe we'd pass from a spirit dream into a normal one. Plus," he added, stroking my hair, "I want to fall asleep with you here with me. Even if I can't wake up with you, it'd be nice to sleep with you. I mean," he added, hurriedly, "_go _to sleep with you."

He lay on his back and pulled me closer. I lay my head on his chest, my cheek against his bare skin.

"Are these your pajamas?" he asked. His voice was soft in my ear, and as he spoke, I felt the vibration in his chest. "The ones you're wearing right now, in real life?"

"Yes," I said. "You? Is this what you're wearing right now, too?"

"Almost," he said. I couldn't see his face, but I could hear the smile in his voice.

"Let me guess," I said. "In reality, you're naked?"

"Wrong, Sage!" he said. "In reality, I'm wearing a shirt, too."

I leaned back and got up on one elbow to look him in the eye. "Then why aren't you wearing one in the dream? Are you just showing off?"

He grinned at me. "You chose it," he said.

"What?"

"Your subconscious chose the forest location, and it also chose my... wardrobe. Apparently, you like me half-naked." I was too astonished to answer. "You should see the look on your face!" he said, gleefully, and gave me a kiss on my forehead, which was pretty much all he could reach at the moment.

I fell back on the bed, a little ways away him.

"What?" he said, propping himself up on an elbow to look at me. "Are you embarrassed?"

"Kind of," I said.

"Look, Sydney," he said. I didn't move. "I mean it! Look at me!" I sat up slightly to meet his eyes. "You shouldn't be so ashamed all the time. You're a living creature, you know? It is absolutely normal to want to see or touch or kiss someone that you care about. I feel incredibly lucky that you want to see and touch and kiss _me._ So never, ever feel ashamed of the things you want, because you're wonderful, just as you are."

"Thank you," I said. The words seemed inadequate compared to what he had said, so I gave him a quick, fierce kiss.

"Yes, I am a lucky guy," he said. "I'd ask for a few more of those kisses, but we really should go to sleep." We cuddled back up together. I rested my face on his chest and folded one leg over him. He put his arms around me and rested his head slightly against mine. I couldn't believe how neatly I fit with him. I didn't know I could ever be so comfortable so close to another person.

"Ok," he whispered. "Just relax and go to sleep. I don't know if it'll work, but I'll do my best."

"Don't do it right away," I whispered. "I want to stay here another minute or two."

We just lay there quietly. He was stroking my hair, and I was listening to his heart. I felt perfectly calm and at peace.

Next thing I knew, I woke up at the alarm. I was folded into exactly the same position as I had been in Adrian's bed, but now I was in my own narrow dorm bed. Alone. I sat up, wide awake and grinning like an idiot.

I got up and got ready for that morning's self-defense practice. I kept breaking into laughter as Eddie and I ran through moves, and when Jill made a lunging attack to me, I actually just grabbed her into a hug. They kept exchanging glances, but I couldn't school my expression into something more staid, and I didn't feel like trying.

When I went back to the dorm and did all the normal morning things, I felt like everything looked different than it usually did. I wanted to sing in the shower. I wanted to write a sonnet about the pine needle I found in my hair. I wanted to dance as I dried off with my towel. I wanted to tell random people in the hallway that life was sweet and wonderful. It was cheesy as heck, but I had just found out something important about feeling like this, which was that you don't mind when you're inside it. It's only annoying to be looking at it from the outside, which is how I'd always seen it before.

When I was dressed, I picked up my phone to text Rose. I was surprised to see that there was already a text from Adrian. It said: "Venice tonight?"

I didn't really care where we were going. I was going to go somewhere with Adrian – what did it matter? I texted him a smiley face, probably the first time I my life I had ever communicated via emoticon. Then, I texted a smiley face to Rose for good measure. Let her sort that out.

I stared at myself in the mirror, trying to see if all the things that had changed on the inside were showing at all on the outside. I ran my fingers through my hair, remembering how it had felt when Adrian did that, and stopped dead still when a thought occurred to me.

_I had found a pine needle in my hair in the shower._

When had it gotten stuck in my hair? It had to have been during self-defense practice, right?

I went back to the bathrooms and found the pine needle where I had left it, on the shelf in the shower. It was actually two medium-length pine needles that had grown together in a single tuft, and the tuft looked like it came from _pinus ponderosa scopulorum_, the Rocky Mountains ponderosa pine. Of course, various sub-species of ponderosa pine, including _scopulorum,_ were common all across the Western US. It had to be just a coincidence.

The thing was, though, that I didn't tend to believe in coincidences.

I set the pine-needle tuft on my windowsill, and stared at it for a long time before I went down to breakfast.

_Updated September 3, 2012._


	5. I: Balance

**Chapter 5: Balance**

My classes that day passed in a blur. I was oddly tired and found that I had trouble focusing. At first, I thought it was just the emotional impact of what had happened with Adrian, and the decision I had made. Despite everything, despite the pine needle in my hair and the fact that I had spent the previous night kissing a vampire in a magic dream, I was just… happy. The customs and beliefs I had been raised by seemed so much less important than the way Adrian made me feel. I floated through my day, as if disconnected from the real world, a dreamy smile on my face.

"Miss Melbourne?" Ms. Terwilliger called to me during history class. "Is there a reason that the Bubonic Plague seems to be having such a cheering affect on you?"

"Sorry, Ma'am," I replied, startled. "I... I guess I was just thinking about… how great it is that science has progressed to the point that such massive plagues are all but unheard of in the modern age."

Ms. Terwilliger raised an eyebrow at me. "Very sweet answer, Miss Melbourne. I'll pretend that I believe you," she said, in her usual absent-minded way. And the rest of class passed in a blur.

While passing in the halls from history to math, I got a text from Rose that read simply "?". I sent her back a text that said "!" and when she called me, I didn't answer. I didn't feel like explaining anything right now. I was too happy.

But as I dragged myself from class to class, I realized that my spacey state was more than just happiness. I was also legitimately exhausted. Thinking about it, I determined that although I had had an average amount of sleep, with all the time I'd spent in spirit dreams lately, I probably hadn't had much in the way of proper REM cycles. It was a scientific fact that without reaching REM stage, the human brain is unable to perform key processes necessary to keep one sane and functional. In other words, I really needed some proper sleep if I was going to get back to normal.

"Really, I can't have another spirit dream tonight," I told myself, as I missed yet another easy serve in volleyball practice.

"I should just get a good night's sleep tonight," I thought, as I dropped my third fork on the floor at dinner.

"I'll call him and cancel. I won't go. I'll just sleep," I said to myself, as I almost put Neosporin on my toothbrush.

And then, as I got into bed and pulled the blankets over me, I only had enough time to think, "Adrian!" before I was fast asleep.

Immediately, I was standing in the middle of a small Italian piazza. A narrow canal bounded one side of the square, and behind me was a small church. Adrian was sitting on an ornate metal bench under a knotted looking old tree, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt and holding a bouquet of pale green tulips. He looked ridiculously gorgeous. Why did he always look so gorgeous?

"Hi," I said, as I walked over and sat down next to him on the bench. I felt oddly shy, as if I hadn't seen him in years. I couldn't look him in the eye.

"Hi," he said. "I made these for you." He handed me the tulips, and reflexively I brought them up to my nose. I was surprised to note that they smelled like honeydew melon.

"They're gorgeous," I said.

"You're gorgeous," he said.

I blushed. "I was thinking that about you."

"Then do I get a kiss?" he asked. He tilted my chin up so I had to look him in the eye. It took only a moment of looking in those green eyes and I was completely loopy. I leaned forward and we kissed, softly at first, but with quickly growing intensity.

After a moment, I pulled myself together enough to swat him away. "We can do that anywhere!" I said. "We're in Venice!"

"Venice counts as 'anywhere,' " he said.

"You know what I mean," I said. I stood up from the bench, and he did too. "Where should we go?" I asked. "I don't know much about Venice, except that the architectural influence of the pre-Renaissance nation-state can be felt all over the Mediterranean basin because of the aggressive colonization practiced by the Venetians –"

Adrian cut me off by kissing me again. I'd like to say that I swatted him away again, but I'm not made of stone. We lost a few minutes there. When he pulled away, we were both breathing heavily, and his eyes were slightly glazed. "Sorry," he said. "You just get me so hot when you do that over-educated, over-informed thing. What were you saying about the Venetians' colonization?"

"I have no idea," I said, and we lost a few more minutes.

When we pulled away the second time, I took a decisive step away from him. "Come on," I said. "We have to see some sights!"

"Ok," he said. "It's a deal." Adrian took my hand and we set off by crossing a tiny bridge over the canal.

"Is this the right way to... wherever?" I asked.

"The thing about Venice is, it doesn't really matter which direction you go," Adrian said. "I spent a couple of weeks here a few years back, and I was basically always lost. All you can do is walk until you see one of the signs pointing the way to a key landmark, like the Rialto or something. Maps are pointless. Half the streets change names every few blocks, and a bunch of them just suddenly stop when you hit a canal and there's no bridge. But it's fun to get lost and wander around until you see a sign that leads you home. We don't always have to know where we are to enjoy the journey." He squeezed my hand.

"Philosopher," I said.

"You know it. Adrian Ivashkov is all things to all people."

"Then I guess you're my guide through Venice," I said. "So where are we heading now?"

"The Rialto Bridge. Look, there's a sign for it!" He pointed up at an orange sign reading _Per Rialto,_ with an arrow pointing to the left. We followed the sign and found ourselves in a tiny lane, which we followed for about thirty seconds before we came to another canal. We crossed a few more bridges, walked down some twisty lanes, and strolled through another square or two before we found another _Per Rialto _sign, now pointing right. "Don't worry," Adrian said, winking. "I'm pretty sure we'll find the Rialto in a few minutes. I've got some pull with the city planner."

"You _are_ the city planner, at the moment," I said.

"Exactly! I'm so glad you understand." He squeezed my hand, and I realized that this whole time, we'd been holding hands. I had always thought that if I held hands with someone for a while, my hand would get sweaty and I would want to stop. With Adrian, I just didn't care.

As we walked, he asked me about my day, and when I told him about how goofy and weird I'd been feeling, he said, "It was probably just the result of spending so much quality time with me."

"That, or an after-effect of spirit dreams messing with my REM cycle," I said. "Or perhaps their evil influence on me, I'm not sure."

"Are you still on that whole 'spirit dreams are evil' thing?" Adrian asked, cautiously.

"Well..." I said, and thought for a moment. "I guess... I guess I feel a little better about them. I mean, I want to see you. And meeting in person presents various challenges. So I guess I will have to get used to spirit dreams. It's something you do, and you're not evil... so..."

"What a ringing endorsement," Adrian commented, dryly.

I pulled him closer and kissed his cheek. "I'm doing the best I can," I said.

"I know," he said. He turned to face me, and dropped my hands in order to put his hands on my shoulders for a moment. "I'm trying to be patient. Are you ok to stay here? In the dream?" He gave me a pleading look.

"I'm fine. I mean, emotionally, I'm fine. And physically, I guess I will need some actual sleep at some point soon."

"Well, if the mental exhaustion is really a problem," he said, slowly, "I could heal you a little, if you like. It would be easy to restore you." He stroked a stray strand of hair out of my face.

"It's not necessary," I said, a little flatly. I was trying to get used to kissing someone with fangs while being wrapped in spirit magic. I didn't need the added confusion of a magical healing. I realized how harsh I sounded, so tried to make up for it by adding, as nicely as I could, "Thank you, though. Really, all I need is a good night's sleep and I'll be fine." I gave him a big smile that felt sort of fake to me, and Adrian studied me for a moment before kissing me once, quickly, on the lips. We set off walking once more, and Adrian took my hand again.

A moment later, we walked around a corner, and in front of us was a wide set of stairs leading up very gently. I could see a variety of shops on either side of the wide stairs, each one about as ritzy and expensive looking as anything we'd seen so far in Venice. Adrian gestured in front of us and said, "Here we are."

"What do you mean? I thought we were going to the Rialto Bridge?"

"This is the Rialto Bridge," Adrian said, smiling. "See? There's the main pathway across it, straight in front of us." He pulled on my hand gently and we began walking up the stairs. "Only the most expensive shops are actually on the Rialto," he explained. "I guess it must date back to Venitian times. I'm surprised you don't know the history of the bridge."

"I did know there were shops on it," I said. "I guess I just thought it would still look like... you know... a bridge."

"Come here," he said, gesturing to an alleyway between two shops. "If we go to the outer lane, we'll be walking closer to the water, and you'll feel more like you're on a bridge." We walked through the alleyway and I was surprised to see there was another lane that hugged the water. The bridge was actually wide enough to accommodate three whole roads and two rows of shops. I made a mental note to do some research on the history of the bridge when I got home, and then reminded myself that I was already home, and that I could do the research when I woke up.

The lane by the water was also made up of a few flights of stairs, set far apart and rising very gently. We climbed the stairs slowly, hand in hand, looking down at the water, until Adrian stopped to kiss me again. I closed my eyes and gave in to the feeling of it, amazed again that something so simple as touching someone could have such a dramatic effect on me. Then he pulled back and studied my face. I knew my smile had to be extremely goofy, so I threw my arms around him and buried my face in his shoulder. He squeezed me tight, then after a moment, let me go, and we kept walking across the bridge.

"You're quiet," he said. "Normally, you're a little chatterbox. It's one of the many things I adore about you. So, what's up? Why no history lessons or comments on the engineering required for a bridge like this?"

"I don't really know. I guess I'm feeling a little inhibited."

"Why?" he asked, surprised. "You're not still scared of me? Are we not past the whole evil vampire thing?"

"It's not that," I said, though I knew that I wasn't _completely_ past it. "It's just that… it's our first date." Not to mention that it was the first date I'd ever been on. Unless you counted Rome, which personally, I didn't, no matter what Rose said.

"I hadn't thought of it that way," he said. We had reached the center of the bridge, and now the stairs began leading back down again. "I guess it kind of _is_ our first date. Great, Sage, now you have me nervous too!" He squeezed my hand and gave me another smile. "Let's not talk then. Let's see how long we can maintain an awkward silence."

I laughed. "That sounds fun."

"Or," he said, "even better – we should go find somewhere to make out until we feel less nervous. That way we don't have to think of anything to say to each other."

"That's your answer to everything," I said, trying to keep my tone light. Inside though, I was actually a little uncomfortable. I liked kissing Adrian, of course. I mean, _like_ is really the wrong word for it. Every second that I was with Adrian, part of me kept shouting, _Kiss him! Kiss him! Untuck his shirt and run your hands up his back and…. _Well, that kind of thing. But that wasn't all there was between us, right? That wasn't why I was risking my future.

"It is _not _my answer to everything!" he said.

"I know," I said. "I just... I'm not used to romance or dating or kissing or any of this. I feel a little out of my element."

Adrian was quiet a moment, then said, "I'm sorry, Sage. I guess I sort of forgot that you're new to this. Ok, I do want to kiss you like, all the time. But that's not the only thing, or the most important thing. It's just that… well, I mean, it's amazing. Isn't it? I mean… us?" He looked at me for confirmation, and I gave him a smile and nodded. "I'll try to back off a little. Be more patient."

"Thanks," I said, and we walked a little further.

After a moment, he said slowly, "I guess that for me, this... whole thing... has been building up since the Strigoi attack." He paused, and then added, in a matter-of-fact voice, "So, it's going to take me a little while until I get it under control enough to be around you without wanting to throw you against the nearest wall and kiss you until we're both breathless. It'll take a few years, maybe. I hope that's alright." He gave me a wild grin and my heart skipped a beat.

I tried to imagine him and me still together in a few years. Would we be married? Would we have dhampir children? _Ok, no,_ I thought. _Don't think about that. _"Did you know for sure, back then, how you felt?" I asked. "After the Strigoi attack?" He had said something like that in the forest, but we hadn't really talked about it.

"I didn't _know_. I think that it started before that. I had been so caught up in Rose that for a while it felt like I was walking around with my eyes closed. But you, my dear, were seeping in at the cracks of my thoughts. And once it started, I brushed the thoughts aside, and tried to pretend it wasn't happening. But it just kept getting worse and worse, and it was harder and harder to brush away. And then at the Trevi Fountain, it hit me. You were sitting there, and I looked at you, and suddenly, I knew that I was kind of coo-coo for Cocoa Puffs about a human." He shook his head in apparent disbelief. "It really is crazy!"

"Hey," I said. "What's wrong with liking humans?" By now we had reached the other side of the bridge, and we began walking through the crazy maze of Venetian streets again.

"Nothing, unless you're a Moroi," he said, as we took a random left turn. "This whole… dating the other race thing? I know it's hard for you, but it isn't easy for me either. Anyway, by the time we got to the Spanish steps, I was thinking that maybe, just maybe…. I'm not really sure what I was thinking, exactly. And then you ran off, or woke up, or whatever, and I... I spent the next two days not sure how to feel. And then I was a jerk to you the next time I saw you. Which I'm sorry about, by the way. Oh," he added, pointing out a sign that read _Per San Marco_. "That's where we want to go. San Marco." We took the sign's advice and turned around a corner.

As we walked, following signs left and right through the twisting streets, I gathered a little courage, and said, "Can I ask you something?"

"I'm all ears."

I looked at him. He was definitely _not_ all ears. He was all trim muscular body and…. I squashed that line of thought and said, "Why did you call that painting of the Coliseum full of ice cream 'Boring on Purpose'? Were you making fun of me? It's ok if you were, but I just wanted to know."

"That's one of my greatest odes to you, Sage!" he said. We crossed a bridge that led to a tiny walkway and on to another bridge. "It was ironic. How on earth could you think you're boring, whether on purpose or by accident? You're about as boring as the Coliseum being suddenly and mysteriously filled with massive amounts of vanilla ice cream. Which isn't boring at all. Don't you see?"

"I guess so," I said. We turned left, following another sign.

"Did you like the other ones? The three in my room?" he asked, a little shyly. It was uncharacteristic of him, and it occurred to me that his painting must really mean a lot to him.

"I was distracted at the time, but yeah, I thought they were well-executed technically, with a good balance of color and light, an excellent sense of perspective, and an imaginative use of simultaneous contrast." Adrian stopped walking and looked at me as I spoke. "The emotion of the painter came through, as well, which is a sign of high quality art." He took a step towards me and put his hands on my waist. "And the chiaroscuro shading around the female figure in the gladiator painting" – he steered me backwards, gently putting my back against a wall – "emphasized her power, and…mmmm..." And we lost another few minutes.

When we pulled ourselves apart, he brushed the hair back from my face and said, "I can't help myself when you get all technical like that. But what did all that mean? You liked the paintings?"

"I liked them a lot," I said, and then added, "In the painting of the girl at the top of the Spanish steps, you seem to have employed more of sfumato technique, which is more appropriate for the light and blissful feeling you meant to engender in your viewer – mmmph!"

A few minutes later, we started walking again, and soon we reached San Marco square. Looming in front of us was the famous cathedral from which the square derived its name. Its golden domes and imposing bronze horses on the roof sparkled in the sunlight.

"Do you want to go in?" Adrian asked, gesturing to the cathedral.

Part of me did want to go in, but I realized that wasn't really a "date" activity. Plus, I had seen a lot of cathedrals in my life. "I think I'm more interested in the rest of what Venice has to offer," I said. "I want to live a little."

Adrian gave me a relieved grin. "Living is what I do best!" he said.

"Maybe that's something you can teach me," I said.

"I think you're picking it up quickly," he said, and kissed my hand.

We continued to stroll around the square. We had come to a building about five or six stories tall, with a large clock dominating most of the front central section. On top of the building was a huge bell with two statues next to it. As we watched, the figures struck the bell three times. "Is it three a.m.?" I asked.

"I'm not sure what time it is in real life." He gave me a smile that made me slightly dizzy. "So? What's the story on the clock tower? Are you perhaps… over-informed about it?"

I took a deep breath, then said, "That's the famous clock tower, which was built in the 1400s, though it has been repaired several times since then." Adrian took my hand and began kissing his way up my arm. "The lion at the top represents Venice, and just under it is an image of the Virgin Mary. That's where you can see what t-time it uh… is. The hour is to the left, in Roman numerals, and the minutes are to the right, in f-f-five minute increments." He reached my shoulder, pushing my shirtsleeve up to kiss my upper arm, and then pulled the collar of my shirt over to continue to my neck. "The circular dial under it shows the placement of the sun in the, in the, in the zodiac, and oh my god, Adrian, we're going to get nowhere at this rate."

He laughed. "We're in no hurry, Sage. Let's just enjoy every moment."

Something about those words struck me. I put my arms around his waist and rested my head against his chest. "I'm not good at the whole 'enjoying myself' thing. I told you that," I said, my voice muffled.

"That's what I'm here for," Adrian said, cheerfully. "I'll make sure you're enjoying yourself."

I leaned back and looked at him. "And what am I here for?"

"You're here to have fun. And to tell me what 'sfumato' means. You said I used a sfumato technique in my painting and I have never heard that term in any of my art classes. I want to get extra credit."

I tried to explain about what sfumato meant, but it just ended up distracting both of us, and it took us a few minutes for us to calm down. After that, we started walking through the square again. There were several little outdoor cafés around the edge of the plaza, and at Adrian's suggestion, we sat down at one of them, choosing a little round table that was half in the sun, half in the shade.

"It's nice that they were able to seat us right away," I said, sitting down on the sunny side of the table. "This place is so busy." I looked around the empty square, and tried to picture it full of people.

"I know, right? I wonder how long it'll take for them to come and take our order." Adrian grinned, then waved his hands over the table like an old-fashioned magician. A second later, the table was set with a snack of tiramisu and fruit.

"Wow," I said. "Such fast service!" I looked more closely at the blown-glass vase in the center of the table and saw that it was full of the light green tulips Adrian had invented for me. I wondered where I had left the bouquet Adrian had given me before, then realized it didn't really matter.

"We should write a good review online," Adrian said. "Oh hey, watch this," he added, and poured something from a silver coffee pitcher into my empty cup. As I watched, the surface of the brown liquid swirled itself into a heart shaped layer of foam. In the middle of the heart I could see a tiny "AI + SS" written in the foam.

"You just poured a cappuccino from a coffee pitcher, you know," I said.

"Just like magic!" he said, grinning, and poured another one for himself. He looked up and met my eye. I looked at what was drawn in the foam. It was a tiny skeleton riding a motorcycle. I peered closer. There was a skeleton parrot riding on the skeleton's arm. I couldn't suppress my grin. "What?" Adrian asked.

I looked from the tulips, to the heart in the coffee, to his face. God, that face! I wanted to tell him that he was hilarious, cute, gorgeous, amazing… something. I wanted to ask him why someone so vibrant, so creative, so _alive_, would want to be with someone like me. But the words got struck in my throat. "Nothing," I said. But I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, and hoped he understood.

As usual, he seemed to. He took my hand across the table and squeezed it before turning his attention back to the food. "Normally," he said, as he dumped three or four huge spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee, "this place would be full of pigeons, tourists, street performers, musicians, the whole nine. Some of the street performers play music to the tourists while _covered_ in pigeons, in fact." He stirred the coffee, and the skeleton disappeared.

I laughed, but Adrian had turned thoughtful. "It's funny," he said. "If we were really _here_, with other people, no one would notice that there was anything… odd… about the two of us being on a date. They would just think we were a nice, extremely attractive young couple, and keep on walking. Strangers are no trouble. The only people we have anything to worry about are the people we actually know."

I thought about that, then asked, "Is Moroi-human dating as taboo among your people as it is among mine?"

"Not quite as much, maybe," he said. "It's just never _done_. We don't have the hang-ups that your lot does – I mean, we don't think that humans or evil or anything. And we all know that it used to be done, or we wouldn't have ended up with the dhampirs. It's just that it's never done anymore. It seems wrong." He looked up at me. "But it also seems wrong to be around you and _not_ kiss you," he added. "And lots of things are not really officially 'done,' and yet they happen all the time. I mean, there are some Moroi that marry dhampirs. It isn't _that_ big of a stretch to be dating a human…."

"What's the view on Moroi dating dhampirs?" I asked, nibbling at the tiramisu. This was treading very close to Rose territory, and we both knew it, but I couldn't let it go.

"Well it's done, obviously. It's necessary, or there'd be no more dhampirs. But it's sort of frowned upon nonetheless, which really makes no sense. Anyway, I obviously flouted that convention, didn't I? And now here I am with you…. No one can ever say that I'm too conventional, can they?" He took a bite of the tiramisu, and then added, "My mother would freak out if she knew about this."

I asked, with as much nonchalance as I could muster, "How did your parents react to you dating Rose?"

"My dad was an asshole about it, of course," he replied. "But my dad _is_ an asshole. My dad and your dad should get together and go bowling or something. But my mom didn't fight it. I guess she knew that it wouldn't last. It was smart of her. And it all worked out for the best in the end."

"Do you really think so?"

"Well, yeah," he said. He looked surprised that I had asked. "If Rose and I had stayed together, I'd still be playing second banana."

"To Dimitri," I supplied.

"No," he said, calmly. "To Rose."

"What?"

He took a sip of his coffee. "My relationship with Rose was always about what Rose wanted," he said, and I was happy to hear only the faintest note of bitterness in his tone. "It's not her fault. She just didn't… care for me enough to… think about things that way. I mean, it didn't come naturally to her. So it was always about what I could do for her. There was no balance. And there never could have been, no matter what."

I was surprised to hear him describe the relationship like that, but it sort of made sense. "So far I haven't done much for you," I said, watching his face carefully. Was I going to make the same mistakes Rose had?

He gave a little laugh. "Are you kidding? My apartment! You could have kept it for yourself, but you gave it to me!"

I stared down at my coffee, mortified. "How did you find out?"

Under the table, Adrian began gently stroking one of his feet against my leg. "Abe Mazour let it slip," he said. "He said he thought I knew, but who knows for sure. He might have just wanted to tell me for reasons of his own."

I began to grow a little light-headed from the touch of his foot against my leg. I hadn't known until that moment that my leg was an erogenous zone. "I wonder what Abe would think about us hanging out like this," I said, trying to keep my thoughts straight.

"I think he would think it was adorable," he said, then gave a slight sigh as I began stroking his knee under the table. He went on, with a little effort, "I don't think he cares about convention. You know, I think he is actually pursuing Rose's mother now? He might even marry her – if she'll let him. It's crazy."

"And that would be weird, right?" I persisted. "Because he's a Moroi and she's a dhampir?" He had one of his hands on my knee now too, and was stroking slightly upward, toward my thigh, just an inch. Even through the fabric of my jeans, the touch was making me feel like I might fall out of my chair.

"Why are you stuck on Moroi-dhampir relationships?" he asked.

It took me a moment to respond. I felt like I was on satellite delay. "I guess I'm thinking about Jill and Eddie," I said finally. Was I? Maybe a little. Really, I was trying to understand Adrian's life better. I was trying to imagine how I might fit into it.

"Ah ha!" Adrian exclaimed. "So little Jailbait has Castile on her hook!"

"Don't tell her," I said.

He squeezed my knee, then let go of my leg. "I won't _tell_ her, though I can't promise she won't pick it up from my head. I mean, I'm doing a decent job keeping her out, but…." He put up his hands in a gesture of acceptance. He added, "Or she'll figure out for herself at some point." He stared off into space. "It's inevitable."

"Not necessarily. She seems oblivious to it, in fact. How she doesn't see when it's so obvious that he's head over heels for her, I don't know."

Adrian was still staring at nothing. When he spoke, his voice was slightly dreamy and distant. "I never understood that saying," he said. "Aren't we always head over heels? It would be more of a problem to be the other way around." I started to laugh, but the unfocused quality of his eyes and speech unnerved me. "They should say heels over head," he continued in that dreamy way. "That would be more of a problem…. But it's inevitable anyway. We all end up heels over head, or head over heels, or something. We all fall down…"

"Adrian?" I said. He didn't answer, and I was suddenly a little unnerved. What was wrong with him? I grabbed his hands and squeezed tight. He looked at me, blinking. "Are you alright?" I asked.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine, Sydney. Thanks. Just lost my train of thought again. What were we talking about?" He still seemed to be waking up.

I kept hold of his hands, trying to hold him here with me. "We were talking about Eddie and Jill," I said. "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Oh yeah, I'm fine, I'm fine." He leaned forward and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. "Really, I'm _fine_. Sorry if I scared you. I get like that sometimes. Don't give it a second thought."

I wanted to argue with him, tell him that if he wasn't feeling well, that we should just stop the dream right now. But he seemed so determined to brush the incident off that I wasn't sure what to say. Plus, he really did seem better.

"Ok," I said, carefully. I decided to drop it for the moment, but to watch him carefully, to see if the instability came back.

"Yeah, well, about Jailbait," Adrian said. "Like I said, she won't hear about Castile from me, except maybe through the bond."

"Which is how she's going to find out about you and me," I said.

"Yes," he said, simply. "I can't keep it from her forever. I talk to Lissa a lot about how to set up spiritual blocks, and I'm getting better. The other day when I was hanging out with her, she said I was getting better at it than she had ever been."

"You were hanging out with her? Isn't she in Pennsylvania?"

"Oh yeah, well, I saw her in a spirit dream. She's still trying to learn those, so we get together and swap trade secrets from time to time. I'm getting much better at healing, I think."

"Oh," I said. I felt weird, knowing that he used spirit dreams to communicate with Lissa too. I was already starting to think of them as something special that he and I did together. Which made no sense, of course.

"Hey, Sage," Adrian said, as if picking up on my mood. "Lissa is like a sister to me. Don't worry about it. I don't make her honeydew tulips, you know?" He took one of the flowers out of the vase and ran it along my cheek playfully, then added, completely deadpan: "Hey, look at this. If I can't use my two lips, I'll use my tulips."

I started to laugh. "Oh my god," I said. "That was the worst joke I have ever heard in my entire life." For some reason, I kept laughing, though.

"Then why are you laughing?" he asked, starting to laugh too.

"I don't know. It is seriously the stupidest joke," I choked out.

"Then stop laughing!" he said, and we both just kept laughing until tears came rolling out of our eyes. We finally managed to stop, dabbing at our eyes with our napkins and shaking our heads.

After that, the last of my nervousness left me. How could I be shy around Adrian? He was one of my best friends. We finished our coffees, and then turned most of our attention to the tiramisu. Adrian also produced a plate of fruit, including grapes and slices of peach, melon, and mango, which we also ate. He kept threatening to feed me the grapes, but I wouldn't let him.

When we had eaten as much of the fruit as we wanted to, Adrian leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Let's be naughty, Sage."

My heart beat loudly in my ears. "How, exactly?" I asked.

"Let's skip out on the check," he breathed in my ear. He leaned back and looked around him furtively. "I don't think anyone's looking at us. Let's go now!" We both stood up and edged away from the table. "Act naturally!" Adrian whispered to me. I giggled, and we crossed the square.

"Ok, now that we've escaped," Adrian said, "let's go get dressed!"

"What? For what?"

"You'll see," he said. "Now, come on, follow me."

We began walking across the square, scattering a smattering of pigeons. "Where are we going?" I asked.

"You'll _see_," he said again. "It's just around the corner." We walked a short way down a narrow alley, crossed a tiny bridge, and turned left. There stood a very small shop with an elaborate dress in the window. "Here we are," Adrian said.

"Of course," I said as we went in. "Masquerade." All around us were beautiful masks, dresses, and even men's attire. Everything sparkled or was covered with feathers or both.

"I don't know why, but in Venice, people are obsessed with masquerades," Adrian said. He was looking around the room, touching various items. "When I was here a few years ago, I even went to a masquerade ball. And there are always tons of stupid masquerade souvenirs."

"Well, Venice is closely associated with masquerades, and has been since the hey-day of the masquerade ball in the Renaissance," I said. Adrian turned around and looked at me, a familiar grin starting on his face. "Such dances were popular all through Europe, but were a particular feature of Venice," I added. As I said that, Adrian pulled me close and began nuzzling my neck. "Are you trying to shut me up?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I love this. Keep going." He began to plant kisses all along my neck.

"Um… In Venice… these costumes were associated with Car-car-carnival. That's the pre-Easter um, ahhhhhh… party? You know the one," I managed.

"Like in Rio?" he breathed into my ear, then licked my earlobe.

"Yeaahhhh…" I sighed. "Um. Similar to tha-ha-hat. In recent… years? Or decades, maybe? Uh, the Venetian government, oh! Has re-instituted Carnival and it's gotten, oh wow, really pop-pop-popular. People wear cray… mmmmm. Crazy costumes."

Adrian pulled away from me and met my eye. "I told you, you get me hot when you do that."

"Uh-huh," I said. "Wait, what?"

"Exactly," Adrian said, and we lost another few minutes, which I didn't mind a bit.

When we pulled away, I blinked, looking around. "They're totally going to kick us out of the store if we keep this up," I said.

"So we better get what we came for and get out," Adrian said.

He picked out a ridiculous green gown covered in glittery peacock feathers for me, and even insisted that I put on a corset for a base layer. He chose an old fashioned dress coat and breeches for himself. Using dream logic, we both whisked ourselves into our outfits, and looked at ourselves in the mirror.

"So I'm your Barbie doll now," I said.

"Hey, Sage, number one, you're much cute than Barbie. Number two, turnabout is fair play. I walked around in just a pair of boxers last night, and you're the one who picked out the outfit."

"Ok, ok," I said. "Fair enough." We gazed at ourselves some more in the mirror. "Should we do masks?" I asked.

"What, and cover up _these_ faces?" Adrian said, gesturing. "That'd be a crime. Come on, let's get out of here."

He went to the door, then held it open for me to walk through. We stepped out of the shop and into the narrow lane.

"Where to now?" I asked.

"We're taking a gondola ride!" Adrian said. He started looking around, as if trying to figure out which direction we should turn.

When he didn't choose a direction right away, I began looking around too, and I found my attention caught by the display window of the store opposite us. I could see little model cars arranged in a landscape decorated with blown glass trees. I took a few steps forward, then a few more, entranced.

"Hang on," I said. "I'll be right there."

"Ok," he said, clearly distracted. "I'll be right here."

I crossed the street and opened the door to the store, pulling really hard to get it open. I stepped inside, excited to look at the little cars, but there was something strange about the store. The very air seemed thick, as if I were walking through water or even glue. The outlines of the objects seemed indistinct, as well. And the back of the store seemed to be completely dark, as if it were the deep end of the ocean, despite the fact that from the outside, the store had looked well-lit.

I backed out, my hands shaking a little. Out in the street, the gluey feeling began to fade, and the closer I got to Adrian, the thinner and more normal the air seemed.

"Adrian?" I said. He was still standing motionless in the street, gazing off into space. Was Adrian's fugue state the cause of the strange feeling I had had in the shop? No, I decided. The air here seemed normal, and Adrian was clearly not. I shook his shoulders.

He looked around, startled. "Oh, hey," he said.

"What's going on?" I asked. "You've been distracted and odd, on and off, all day."

"I guess I'm just tired," he said. "I know I haven't been myself. I'm sorry, Sage. I'll get a good nap in today and I'll be fine. Come on, it's this way."

He set off resolutely to the right, and I walked with him, skipping a little to catch up.

"So, something kind of weird just happened," I said, and told him about going into the shop. When I was done explaining, Adrian shook his head, confused.

"Well, it _sort of_ makes sense," he said. "I'm not making the entire city all at once here. It's tiring to even do what I'm doing. I think that as we move, I'm sort of generating enough to surround us. Our line of sight, you know? A certain radius. When I start a spirit dream, before I choose a setting, I start in a sort of… white space. So I would've guessed that if you reached the edges, it'd be white. Not gluey. Just… not there. So I really don't know what that means. And I'm really sorry I didn't pay more attention to you wandering off. I should've stopped you. I'm sorry."

"It's ok," I said. "You were feeling… off."

"Hardly an excuse. Hey, do you want to go back, and look at the cars?"

"No, thanks. I'm sort of weirded out by the whole thing."

"Yeah, I think I'd be, too. Let's go on our gondola ride. Then we'll go back to my place." He gave me one of those smiles then, the kind that made me weak in the knees.

After a very short walk, we found ourselves at a dock with several gondolas tied to poles decorated with bright red and white ribbons. Adrian picked out a boat with a beautiful red velvet interior and we both climbed in. I settled into a chair mid-way down the length of the boat, facing the back. I had to arrange my endless skirts around my legs. Adrian stepped onto the platform for the gondolier at the very back of the boat, produced a paddle from nowhere in particular, and began to row.

I watched him. He was actually pretty good at it, and I wondered when he had learned. The sun glinted off his ornamental jacket. "Shouldn't you be in a striped shirt?" I asked him. "And a hat with ribbons on it?"

"Stripes are so tacky," he said. "Besides, I look bad-ass in my pirate outfit."

"It's a pirate outfit?" I asked.

"Well, it's a masquerade outfit. But it doesn't it kind of look like a pirate outfit?"

"It depends on your concept of pirate," I said. "Modern pirates probably just wear jeans."

"I'm talking real pirates, Sage! Swash-buckling, shiver-me-timbers, that kind of thing."

"Of course," I said.

"I should sing, but I want you to like me," he said, and I laughed. "Hey, Sage. Tell me this. Why is the boat like this? It's not symmetrical." It was true. The platform he was standing on was on the far left of the boat, rather than in the center, as one might have guessed it would be. "Do you know why?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "They craft the boat so that it naturally pitches slightly to one side. Then the gondolier's weight balances it back out again."

"Really?" he said. "That's strange."

"There's a good reason, though. It would be extremely difficult for a person to balance perfectly in the center of the boat," I said. "Since people naturally tend to lean one way or the other, the boat-makers began to adjust for that eventuality. They weight the boat so that it will balance the natural _imbalance _of the person. That's why when one sees a gondola in the water without its gondolier, the boat will generally be listing to the side."

"That's kind of sweet," Adrian mused. "The gondola misses its gondolier."

"It can't," I said. "It's an inanimate object. It's just engineering."

"Oh god, you know how I get when you talk like that," he said.

We were staring at each other again, and all I wanted to do was to touch him. I felt like he was a million miles away rather than just a few feet.

"Hold on," I said to him. I carefully crawled to the seat in the far back of the boat, one that that faced the front, then mentally made a certain improvement to the boat that I thought was particularly masterful. I turned around to Adrian and said, "Come down here with me."

"Then who will paddle the boat?"

"Come down here and see."

Adrian carefully stepped down to sit next to me and laughed when he saw what I had done. "Sage!" he exclaimed, happily. "You put a gas pedal on a gondola!"

"And a brake," I said. The two pedals were both within easy distance of my feet. The boat had begun to slow down, so I stepped on the gas slightly, and the boat obediently, and silently, sped up.

"Oh, man. I adore you," Adrian said, and kissed my cheek. "And how are we going to steer? Are you going to put in a steering wheel?" We were coming up to dock full of other gondolas, and we'd have to go around it.

I made a waving gesture with my hands, and the boat turned to the right, neatly going around the dock. "I've figured out how to steer by gesturing emphatically," I said.

We sat together in the back of our gondola, Adrian's arm around my shoulder. I tapped occasionally on the gas, and we had fun steering the boat together with hand gestures. The Grand Canal was so beautiful. On either side were amazing buildings, in all kinds of styles. This was architecture I had always wanted to see: Baroque, Gothic, Byzantine, on and on. It had historical and cultural bearing all over the world. And… I didn't care.

Honestly, I was more into the work of art that was Adrian. I kept trying to look at the buildings, and I found myself staring into his eyes instead, or getting distracted with a kiss. We ducked into a side canal to look at the famous Bridge of Sighs, and I found I was more interested in the little noises Adrian made when I kissed his ears than in the famous sight just above me. Really, it was sort of dumb, but again, I was too happy to care.

"It's so fun to ride around in a boat with you," Adrian said, a little while later. "We should go on more boat rides. Down the Danube, across the bay in Istanbul, through the wine-dark Aegean Sea..."

"I'd like that," I said.

"You know, when I was a little boy, I loved boats."

"Really? Did you have toy boats, or your own yacht?"

"Both, actually," he said with a laugh. "I loved them. But I got kind of off them for a while when I got into Nintendo. I spent a few years indoors rescuing that damned princess."

"Is that what you do in a Nintendo game? Save princesses?"

"You've never played one? God, Sage, and you think _I'm_ unnatural."

I didn't tell him that Rose had said essentially the same thing to me recently. All I said was, "No, I never did."

"There are lots of different games, but there's a popular series in which this little fellow called Mario leaps around from cloud to cloud, climbs beanstalks, collects coins, and rides on dinosaurs, all to rescue this princess in a pink dress."

"She sounds like a drag," I said.

Adrian smiled. "She kind of is. She gets kidnapped again in most of the sequels."

"Well, why can't she just jump over the clouds and climb down the beanstalks herself?"

"What, and leave Mario with nothing to do?"

"I don't know. Mario probably could find something else productive to do, if he weren't saving princesses all the time. I think it'd be labor saving, to have a princess who could rescue herself."

"So you're proposing…."

"An auto-rescue princess," I said. "I would play _that_ game. You just put the game in the drive, and say, 'Hey princess! Go home!' And she'd get up and run around all the clouds and beanstalks and go home, herself. And I could get my homework done."

Adrian laughed, shaking his head in disbelief, and then stared at me, a tender look on his face. Finally he said, "You are just so cute. And you're covered in glitter, did you know that?" He wiped a little glitter from my cheek.

"It's on you too," I said. "I guess it's coming from my dress." I paused. "Do you really think of me as 'cute'? I never thought of myself that way. I usually get 'hard-working,' 'competent,' stuff like that."

"Well, I'm prejudiced maybe," Adrian said. "I'm your boyfriend. Of course I think you're cute."

My heart almost stopped. "Boyfriend?" I said.

"Well, unless you don't want to use that term…."

"I've just never had a boyfriend. I never even went on a date. Actually, before the other day, I had never even kissed anyone."

"That was your first kiss, with me?" Adrian looked astonished. "Wow. Well, I'll use this opportunity to tell you that you are a fantastic kisser. You obviously have a natural gift."

"Thanks," I said. "It's just… you know. Geometry and physics."

He threw his head back and laughed at that, then kissed me soundly.

"But see," I said, when we stopped again. "I don't really know the protocol. Is it normal to be boyfriend and girlfriend after one date? Or... during the first date?"

"Well, not really," he said. "But we obviously don't care about certain customs."

"Yeah, I guess we don't," I said, and leaned my head on his shoulder.

We sailed along in contentedly after that, occasionally pointing out various sights but mostly just cuddling quietly. After a while, I saw that the sun was getting low in the sky. Adrian gestured the boat down a side canal and we pulled over to a building with a small concrete landing by a door installed right at the level of the water.

"We're here," he said, and tied the boat to a post by the concrete dock.

"Where's here?" I asked, as we stepped out of the boat carefully. With my endless pile of dress, it was a little tough to navigate, but I managed.

"This is the apartment I stayed at in Venice," Adrian said. He pulled out a huge old-fashioned key from a pocket in his coat and unlocked the door with a flourish.

We walked into an empty room, floored in concrete, and then up two flights of creaking wooden steps. We found ourselves in a gorgeous living room, set about with antique furniture and lit by a huge chandelier. We stopped in the middle of the room, right under the chandelier, and Adrian suddenly gave me a fierce kiss that left me gasping for air. "You're so beautiful," he said. Then he gave me a slightly strange smile and walked over to the huge set of French windows lining one wall. He opened one and stepped outside onto a wide balcony.

I followed him, and stepping out on the balcony, I saw that it overlooked the tiny canal and the square beyond it. The setting sun tinged the water in the canal a faint pink. Adrian was leaning over the edge, and then he turned to me and gave me that strange smile again. "The sun is setting!" he said. "Isn't that romantic?"

"Very," I said, studying him, trying to figure out if anything was wrong. He came over to me and put his arm around my waist, and I leaned my head on his shoulder, thinking that maybe I was imagining it. We stood out on the balcony for a moment, just taking in the scene. Then Adrian reached behind his back and produced two glasses of prosecco, a kind of sparkling wine, and handed one glass to me. "Is it non-alcoholic?" I asked, meaning to tease him.

He didn't answer me, though. Instead, he walked back to the edge of the balcony and looked down at the water. "Canals are cool, don't you think?" he said, faintly. "Jill would like this place. She'd like all the water. She's drying up in Palm Springs. Like we all do, sooner or later."

I put down my wine and stepped to his side by the edge of the balcony. I took his hands in mine, and said his name, gently but firmly. He didn't seem to notice.

"We all dry up," he repeated, dreamily. "Sooner or later."

It was happening again, just as it had in San Marco's square and outside the masquerade shop. He had a strange look on his face, as if he were staring at something a thousand miles away. "Adrian!" I said, louder than I had before. There was a big wooden chair in the corner of the balcony, and I sort of steered him down into it, then I crouched by him, so that I'd be looking him right in the eye.

"There's nothing we can do," he said, looking past me. "They'll take you away from me, and I'll be alone like before. Alone with a million people. And I'll dry up and turn to dust and float away."

Something clicked in my head. I remembered what Jill had told me once about spirit's side effects, about the darkness and sudden instability. I remembered Sonya Karp, too. Spirit was what had caused her to go mad and choose the evil path of the Strigoi. Adrian had used spirit to create this reality for us, and now spirit had come back for him, came back to pull him down into darkness. The darkness was becoming literal, too. I looked at the city around me, and saw that the sky had grown completely dark, with no stars or moon to light it.

I crouched by Adrian on the balcony for a little while, stroking his hair and talking to him in a gentle low voice. But he wasn't snapping out of it, and in fact just seemed to be sinking deeper down. He was muttering now, stuff that didn't make sense, stuff about drying up and falling apart. I tried to bring him back, promising him that everything was ok, but all my reassurances sounded hollow to me. All I could think was: _This is my fault_. Adrian had done all of this for me. He had taken me to Rome just to make me happy, and he had brought me to Venice, had created this reality, to impress and entertain me. He had had fun too, but really? It was for _me_. And now, he was suffering.

All I wanted to do was to reach him somehow, but he wasn't listening. So I stopped talking. I tuned out his confused ramblings, too. I just stared into his eyes, trying to find what was wrong.

There was something askew inside of him, I realized. I could _feel_ it. Reflexively, hardly aware of what I was doing, I _reached_ inside of him and adjusted something. It was as natural as nudging a crooked picture frame back into place, or straightening a loose pile of papers. I felt something click, and a funny feeling of warm and cold washed over me.

Adrian stopped talking mid-word and stared at me, seeming to see me for the first time in several minutes. His eyes were wide. "Hi," he said.

"Hi," I said, still stroking his hair.

"What did you _do_, Sydney?" he asked in a hoarse whisper.

"Nothing," I answered, automatically.

"You did something," he said. His voice was full of wonder. "I felt it."

I didn't answer. I just gave him a soft kiss, and we leaned our foreheads together for a moment. "Come on," I said. "We should go to bed. Sleep, I mean." A ghost of a smile played on Adrian's lips, but he didn't say a word. He just stood up and followed me back inside. Then, he took my hand and we walked together down a wide corridor, the wooden beams creaking under our feet.

When we got to the door at the end of the hall, I sensed Adrian concentrating for a split-second before he opened it. When he did, his bedroom in Palm Springs lay behind it. We stepped through the door, and I felt a slight sensation of vertigo as we passed through. But the sensation was brief, and then we were back in his room, with his familiar unmade bed. He closed the door behind us, then folded me into his arms, resting his chin on my head. "Sydney Sage," he said quietly. "You never cease to amaze me."

We pulled apart, and I began unbuttoning the buttons on his dress coat. I knew I could whisk it away with dream logic, but for some reason, it felt right to do it this way. I helped him out of the coat, draping it over a chair, then unbuttoned his dress shirt. He stroked my face gently, rubbing off a few pieces of glitter, but not saying a word. He just let me undress him. I slid his dress shirt from his arms and lay it over the coat, and he stood in just his thin cotton undershirt and the old fashioned breeches.

He kissed me, then walked around behind me to undo the row of hooks on the back of my dress. When he was done, it fell to the floor in a green glittery pile. I stood in the corset and petticoat now. He loosened the corset ties gently, stopping to kiss my neck once or twice, and I trembled a little on my feet. When the corset was very loose, he said, "Do you want me to make you something to change into?"

"I got it," I said, in a shaky voice.

"I won't look," he said. I glanced at him, and saw that he had covered his eyes with his hands.

I concentrated for a moment, and my clothes changed from the old fashioned under-things into a pair of short pajama bottoms and a tank top. When I looked back at Adrian, his eyes were still covered, but now he was wearing a pair of modern boxers and nothing else.

"Ready?" he asked.

"Yes," I answered.

He uncovered his eyes and immediately smiled. "You're cute in your pajamas," he said.

We crawled into bed, cuddling up as close as we could. I was again resting my head on his chest, listening to his heart.

After a moment, he said, "I know you said it was nothing, but come on, Sydney. What was that you did? Some alchemist trick?"

"No," I said. If anything, it was the opposite of an alchemist trick. It was closer to…. I couldn't quite bring myself to say the word. "I just helped you calm down. That's all."

"It was more than that. You helped me. It was like magic."

_Magic_. He had said it. But that didn't make it so. "It's just a dream," I said, as much to reassure myself as him. "I'm getting good at dream-logic."

"Maybe," Adrian said, and kissed my forehead. "But _I'm_ not a dream, and you were affecting _me_, not an imaginary vase of tulips or a gondola." When I didn't answer him, he gave me a tight squeeze and said, "I guess I should just say 'thanks', huh? Thank you, Sydney. Just… thank you."

"You're welcome," I said. "Thank you for taking me to Venice. And Rome."

"My pleasure," he said. "You know, since you helped me, can I return the favor? I could heal you a little. Help clear out that exhaustion that spirit-dreams seem to cause you."

"No, you don't have to," I said. My objection now was not as much from my fear of magic – I mean, how could I be afraid of magic at this point? – but from a fear of spirit. The less spirit Adrian used, the better. "But I think we should take a few nights off from spirit dreams," I said. "That will give us both time to heal and recharge."

"You're right," he said, and sighed deeply. "Which sucks. I wanted to take you someplace amazing every night for the rest of… the school year. I know you're right about the spirit thing, though…. I almost called off tonight, to be honest, but I just wanted to see you so badly."

I was tempted to tell him that I had gone through the same internal debate, but decided it was too much to explain. I just kissed his chest and said, "But I'll see you the day-after-tomorrow, in real life. Jill has a feeding, and she'll probably want to come visit you afterwards."

"It'll be great to see you," he said. "I haven't seen you in so long." This made us both laugh a little. "But with Eddie and Jill there… well, it won't be quite private, you know? Do you think you can you come over and visit sometime soon? By yourself, I mean."

"I'm so busy with volleyball, and then I really can't be out past curfew," I said. "Plus, I shouldn't be seen at your place too much alone. I don't know if you're being observed, or maybe if I am, or whether there are any other alchemists or alchemist spies anywhere in Palm Springs."

"God, we have to worry about spies?" He sighed. "I've got a little jailbait spy inside my head, and you've got an international squadron of spies establishing a perimeter outside my apartment. Well, good thing we've got each other." He kissed my forehead again, since it was all he could really reach. "And we can still meet in dreams," he added. "Just not every night."

"I'd like that," I answered quietly, hoping that we could strike the right balance. "Do you know something?" I asked, after a moment's silence.

"I know a lot of things," he answered. "But you know more, so tell me."

"I think if they came for me now, it'd be different than maybe it would have been even just a few months ago. I used to be scared that they'd come for me, you know, the Alchemists. And now I feel like I'd be... furious."

"Furious?"

"I don't know how to explain it," I said. "When the Strigoi had us captured, and I thought I was going to die, I didn't have regrets, exactly. I didn't have hopes. I was just numb. The only thing that seemed to exist was your hand that I was holding."

Adrian kissed my cheek. "That's kind of how it was for me too," he said.

"And yes, the way I felt about you that night was the key factor I took into consideration later when I determined that I couldn't keep fighting my feelings for you."

"That's very romantic, Sydney," Adrian said, dryly.

"It is, actually. But my point is, it kind of sucks that when I thought I was going to die, I almost… didn't care. I should have felt angry, or sad, or something. But if you've never really enjoyed something, why would you care if it's taken from you? I guess what I'm saying is, if I'm ever in that position again, I want to feel really… mad. I want to feel like my life is good enough that I don't want to lose it. And I don't just mean being with you, although I think that's going to part of it."

"You do, huh?"

"I do." The words hung between us for a moment. "Anyway," I went on. "I don't really know what I have to do differently, but… something."

"We'll figure it out together," Adrian said. "I have a lot of figuring out to do as well. And in the meantime? I'll protect you from anyone who might want to take you away. I'll keep you safe."

"Thanks," I said, with a smile, picturing Adrian leading the charge to rescue me. In my mind, he was riding a motorcycle, with a skeleton parrot on his shoulder.

We murmured a little bit more back and forth, and then said goodnight and grew quiet. The only motion in the room was Adrian stroking my hair. As I drifted to sleep – or to a different kind of sleep, depending on how you looked at it – I wondered, what would someone think about the way Adrian and I were cuddled up? Was he protecting me? After all, he had his arms around my waist, and I was leaning on him. On the other hand, I had my leg wrapped around his waist, and my cheek rested on his chest, shielding his heart. So perhaps I was the one protecting _him_. Or maybe… Maybe we were protecting each other.

I was getting so sleepy now. Just before I blinked out into sleep, I thought I felt something come over me, a feeling of hot and cold, something wonderful and light. And then…

And then the alarm went off. I was in my own narrow bed, curled into the same position I had been in Adrian's arms. I could still almost feel them around me as I sat up to face my day. I felt completely refreshed, as if I'd had twelve hours of really deep sleep.

I went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth before self-defense practice. As I dried my face, I studied my reflection. There was a tiny speck of green glitter under one of my eyes. I stared at it for a minute, then wiped it off resolutely with a paper towel. I started to throw the paper towel away, but thought better of it. Instead, I took it with me back to my room and placed on my windowsill next to the pine needle, which still sat there in silent protest to the rules of reality.

"There's an explanation for both of you," I muttered to them. They didn't answer, thank God.

_Updated: September 3, 2012._


	6. I: Come at Me

**Book I - The Forest and the Door**

**Chapter 6: Come At Me**

I walked out of the dorm, over to the blue oak (_Quercus douglasii_) where I always met Eddie and Jill for self-defense training. Eddie was there, but there was no sign of Jill.

"Hi," I said. "Is Jill running late?"

"She texted me to say she wasn't coming. She apparently couldn't sleep all night." He didn't so much as say hi.

"Oh, what's wrong?" I asked, looking at Eddie carefully. Was he annoyed at me or something?

Eddie stared me down, a guarded, almost angry, look on his face. "She had weird, vivid dreams that she was in a boat or something, and that she was going to jump into a river. They really scared her. She says she feels a lot better this morning, but that she's exhausted and wants to sleep in a little."

"Poor kid," I said. I didn't know what else to say, for fear that I would let something slip. Really, I did feel bad for her. Adrian was putting up the best barrier he could, but she had still caught bits and pieces of his thoughts, and bits of his darkness. It made me even more glad that I had done… whatever it was that I that I did for Adrian, because it also helped Jill. "Well," I said, brightly. "Should we practice, just you and me? What do you think?"

"Sure," Eddie said. "Let's practice with the staff today."

"The staff?"

"Yeah. You know, like a stick. If you have to fight a human, dhampir, or Moroi, you stand a fighting chance if you can find a stick to defend yourself with. It also might buy you a few seconds with a Strigoi, though not much more than that."

"And where would I get the stick?"

"You could use any stick that's lying around. Like a tree branch, or a mop, or anything."

I actually could see the value in the technique. I wasn't likely to be carrying around a knife or a stake on a daily basis, but stick-shaped objects were fairly easy to come by. I told Eddie this, and he nodded, approvingly.

"Exactly," he said. "So, I'll teach you how to defend yourself with a staff, under one condition."

"Which is?"

"You tell me what the deal is."

"What deal?" I asked. Eddie picked up a tree branch from the ground, and then held it out parallel to the ground, his hands spaced about six inches apart. He gestured to another stick that he had had ready for me, and I picked it up, mimicking his hand placement. He still hadn't answered me. "What deal?" I repeated.

"The basic idea of the stick is, you use it to deflect the energy of any blow coming towards you," he said. "Swing the stick towards my head. You can hit as hard as you want, it'll be fine."

I did as I had been told, saying as I swung the stick: "What _deal_?"

Eddie caught the stick with his own and deftly turned the blow aside so that my stick went the opposite way than I had intended. "You and Adrian," he said. He gave me the classic "come at me" hand-signal that he always used with me and Jill in our self-defense lessons.

"There's nothing going on between me and Adrian," I said, and swung the stick again, this time at his legs. "And I thought I was learning to defend with a stick, not attack with one."

He again deflected the blow. It was amazing the way he used my momentum against me. "You are. You can learn to deflect by watching how I do it. And yes, there obviously _is _something going on between you two. Should I list some of the strange things that have happened lately?" _Come at me,_ his hands said.

"Be my guest," I said. I swung the stick again, and he deflected instantly. In doing so, he managed to knock the stick out of my hand. I scrambled to pick it up, but he used his own stick to roll mine over to him, then stood with my stick under his foot. I waited for him to return it, tapping my foot impatiently.

Eddie continued, unconcerned. "Number one, you and Adrian have a _fight_." He used air quotes around the word. "While you're 'fighting' " – again the air quotes – "Jill goes into Adrian's bedroom, and comes out under obvious compulsion. Do you know what she said to me?" He offered me my stick again, and I took it.

"What did she say?" I swung again, really wanting to make contact this time. Eddie used his own stick to turn my swing the opposite direction, causing me to lose my balance. I landed flat on my back.

"She said, 'Adrian didn't kiss Sydney.' Then she began scooping some ice cream into a bowl."

"He _didn't_ kiss me," I said, from the ground. It was the truth. _I_ had kissed _him_.

"Try again," Eddie said as I stood up.

"No," I said. "You try."

"With pleasure," Eddie said. He swung his stick at me, and knocked my stick out of my hand. He held the tip of the stick to my neck. "After that, Jill and I walked into quite the dramatic tableau: you on the bed, and Adrian kneeling on the floor a few feet away. You could have cut the tension with a knife, Sydney." He finally moved the point of the stick away from my neck, then picked up my stick and handed it to me. _Come at me._

I swung my stick again, but I was so frustrated that I actually missed Eddie completely. He laughed. "Here's my favorite part," he said. "Adrian's scent was all over you after that. It was really obvious when we were driving home."

"Adrian wasn't wearing much cologne," I said. "It couldn't have gotten on… anyone." I swung again. And missed again.

"I didn't say 'cologne'. I said 'scent'," Eddie said. "And do you think you're convincing anyone with that line?"

"Fine!" I said. I swung the stick towards Eddie, but as he began to move to deflect the blow, I adjusted my swing and made contact with his shoulder. He moved out of the way in time to prevent an injury, but I had made legitimate contact, and I was proud of myself.

"So you admit it?" Eddie asked. He didn't comment on my successful hit except to rub his shoulder lightly and then gesture for me to try again.

"Something happened, ok? But it's my problem." I swung, but this time he was expecting me and he was harder to hit. He actually disarmed me before I had finished the swing.

"It wouldn't matter if it were just you and… Adrian… in your little moment," he said. He made a face. "But it affects Jill. So that makes it _my_ problem, too."

"Because you want to protect Jill?" I asked. "Because you guard her _body_?" I feinted towards his arm, changed direction and hit just under his knee, pulling back at the last second so that I didn't really hurt him.

"Nice hit," he said. "Why don't you try defending again?"

"Come on, then," I answered. "Give me something to defend against."

"How are you going to handle it?" he asked, not moving a muscle. "Are you going to sit outside in the car when we run into Adrian?"

"Why would I do that –" I started to say, but he had swung at me. I tried his trick of using his own momentum against him and found that I could get his stick to almost roll across mine. He spun away from me without making a successful hit.

"Because obviously you're going to have to stay away from him for a while," Eddie said, getting his bearings back. "Aren't you?"

I leaned on my stick, not saying a word. I took a deep breath and refocused my energy. _Come at me,_ I gestured.

He did just that, and I ducked his swing, moving around behind him. I tapped the back of his knees gently with my stick. "I could have hit a lot harder," I said.

"I know," he said. "It might have broken my knees."

We stood silently for a moment, catching our breath.

"So? What are you going to do?"

"I am going to take it one day at a time," I said.

"What does that mean? Are you going to … _date_ him?" He almost choked on the word.

"Listen, it wasn't exactly my plan or anything to… be like this. You know what I was taught about his kind. And your kind too. Let's just not talk about it, ok? Let's just go back to training."

"Oh, we're still training. Now, put down your stick and try to grab me."

"That doesn't seem fair," I said.

"Life isn't fair," he said. He turned his back to me so that I could grab him. I lunged at him, trying to grab his arms behind his back. He deftly rolled the stick between us, preventing me from gaining ground on him, then lifted me up onto his shoulder. "I could throw you," he said. "But I won't."

"That's good," I said, still dangling. I didn't fight him; there was no point.

"You have to stay away from Adrian," he said.

"Are you threatening me?" I asked.

He slid me down to the ground. "I'm not threatening you. I'm asking you."

"It sounds like you're telling me."

"Well, maybe I am. Look, Sydney. His scent is still on you. It's faint, but I can smell it, and that means that Jill can too."

"That's impossible," I said. "I haven't been around him since Jill's last visit, the day before yesterday."

"I don't know what to tell you. The scent is there. It's a fact. What's also a fact is that we're here to do a job. Any… relationship … you might develop with Adrian is inappropriate. You don't need me to tell you that."

"No, I really don't. I only have a lifetime's worth of training telling me that. Since I was a baby I've been taught to hate you, and that duty comes first. This isn't easy for me, Eddie. But I just want to spend a little more time with him. I don't know what will happen next, but I..." Thoughts were rushing through my head, words I couldn't say. _I've never felt like this. I'm deliriously happy and terrified and intrigued, all at once. I feel like it would be a small exchange, to give up everything and get Adrian, even for a few days... _"I'm not just going to avoid him," I finished, tamely. "I'm not sure what will happen. Probably nothing. But I really want to keep hanging out with him."

Eddie laughed, a mirthless sound. "You sound like Rose. She never thinks about consequences either."

"I _always_ think about consequences," I exploded. "I think about them more than I think about almost anything else. This thing with Adrian is exactly the second crazy decision I've ever made in my life. The first, may I remind you, was to help your friend avoid an unjust execution." _Well, technically, maybe it was the third crazy decision, _I thought. _Though I think the choice I made regarding Keith wasn't crazy at all. _

Eddie sighed and looked away. "That's not fair, to bring that uh–" His voice was cut off when I made use of his momentary distraction to grab him and flip him over onto his back. I dropped him with maybe a tiny bit more force than was strictly necessary for a friendly spar.

"You were saying?" I said. For effect, I picked up my stick and held it in the air like a sword.

Eddie looked at me in surprise. "Wow, Sydney. That was some throw," he said, a little weakly. "You know, you're getting much better at this. Yesterday I thought you were pretty hopeless, but you seem to be feeling much better this morning."

A tiny scrap of memory came into my mind – a feeling of warm and cold as I had fallen asleep in the dream last night, moments before the contact between me and Adrian was broken. It was something shining and light…. _Oh, Adrian. You sneak,_ I thought. _I told you not to heal me._

I had barely finished thinking this when Eddie's stick whooshed past my head. I had deflected the blow with my own stick without realizing it. _Ha_, I thought. I used his momentum to spin him to one side of me, then I pushed off him to take a forceful step away. I was just so… awake this morning.

"Yeah," said Eddie, as we both pulled ourselves together. "You're on it today. Did something happen last night? Something you want to share with me?"

"I went to my dorm room and slept."

"Alone?"

"Oh for heaven's sake, Eddie. What do you think? That I snuck Adrian into my dorm-room?"

He said nothing. He just threw me the stick. "I'm going to come up on you from behind. Deflect me," he said.

I turned my back on him. He grabbed me and I used the stick as I had seen him do a minute or two ago. I wasn't completely successful, but I did force him to let go enough that I could scramble away.

"Good try," he said. "Again."

We tried again. I was a little more successful this time, forcing him to take a step away from me. But then he grabbed me and flipped me over his shoulder again. It didn't matter how good I felt this morning. Eddie was a well-trained dhampir, and could always kick my human behind if he needed to.

"Come on, Eddie," I said. "Let me down."

"Not until you tell me something. What the hell do you see in that guy?"

"Adrian?" I asked.

"That's the guy we're talking about."

"What does it matter?"

"Give me one good characteristic about him. Other than his looks."

I tried to think of one specific thing. It was strange, but I had a hard time putting it into words. Finally, I said, "He's creative, affectionate, generous, vibrant…."

Eddie put me down on the ground, almost dropping me. "He's also a useless party boy who sleeps around like it's going out of style. Face it, Sydney. He's a trust fund baby without the trust fund."

"I thought you liked him!" I said. I made no effort to get up.

"I do like him. I just think you can do better. And I don't want to see anyone get hurt here. That includes you. You're my friend, Sydney."

I looked at him carefully. I was famous for not understanding guys. Did Eddie…. No, I decided. He was sincere. I softened. "I appreciate your concern, Eddie. I just don't think that it's warranted in this case. Adrian's a much better person than most people give him credit."

"It doesn't really matter, Sydney," Eddie said. "He should be off-limits because of the job, even if you two were of compatible races." So he was grossed out by human-Moroi dating, too. Well, I couldn't really blame him for that. I wasn't 100% comfortable with it myself. Eddie went on. "If Adrian really were some amazing person, then maybe it'd be worth it to risk things for. But to give up everything just for him? It's crazy."

"So, in your guardian training program, they also offer assessment tools on the relative value of potential companions?" I said, with some heat.

"In a way," he said. "You learn who you can trust. Adrian's a good friend, but he's… not…"

"He's not _Jill_," I countered. Eddie's face colored as if I had thwacked him with the stick. "She's the standard by which you judge these things."

"We're not talking about Jill," he said.

"I think we sort of are," I said. "I think that you're wondering why I would risk everything for someone so unworthy? Especially when I'm risking so much more than you would risk by going for Jill." He said nothing out loud, but his hands said: _come at me. _I didn't move. "I'm making you nervous because I'm making you wonder if you could do it too," I said. He still said nothing. "But you won't, because you've decided that your job is more important than your life. I know that everyone's going to disapprove of Adrian and me. But I'm not going to let you join the Greek chorus of disapproval just because you've decided to subsume every wish, every hope, every desire you have in your responsibilities."

Eddie swung his stick at me, but I deflected the blow with mine. I managed to disarm him this time, then rolled his stick away. He didn't look at me, but said, "At least tell her, then. She should hear it from you.

"I'll think about it," I said. "Thank you for your help this morning. I think I learned a lot." I looked over at a stand of trees a few yards away. It was an area that didn't get mowed or taken care of in any way, and the grass was tall and wild. "Do you see those trees over there?" I asked him. He looked up, then looked at where I was pointing. He gave a faint nod. "The big one is a _Washingtonia filifera,_ a California fan palm. Next time Jill feels like hanging out outside, you should take her to sit by that tree."

"Why?" he asked.

"It only grows where there is an underground supply of water. There is probably a little underground stream or something there. It will probably make Jill feel happy to be near the water, even if she can't see it."

"I'll think about it," Eddie said. "See ya."

"Bye," I said, and walked away, back across the campus. As I walked, I passed a pine tree that I hadn't noticed on the way out. It was a _Pinus sabiniana_ – a ghost pine. It was nothing like the trees in my pine forest, and nothing like the tree that had donated my mystery pine needle.

I got back to my room and took a quick shower, rinsing some more glitter down the drain. I tried not to think about it, letting the hot water rinse off my fight with Eddie. _Useless party boy who sleeps around like it's going out of style. _All the happiness left over from my dream had almost evaporated.

I got out of the shower, returned to my room, and picked up my phone. I had another missed call from Rose. I hit the button to return the call, and she answered immediately.

"Spill," she said by way of greeting.

"Hi," I said. "Did you ever sleep with Adrian?"

"Wow," she said. "You really don't beat around the bush, do you?"

"Not unless I have the right stick," I said. "So?"

She sighed. "It's a long story."

"I have a fifteen minutes before breakfast," I said. "Talk fast."

_Updated: September 3, 2012._


	7. I: Love Makes You Do the Wacky

**Chapter 7: Love Makes You Do the Wacky**

"Oh, Sydney," Rose said. "You are hilariously clueless. When people say 'it's a long story,' that means, 'I don't want to tell you about it.' I _really_ can't talk about this with you. It's too weird."

"I guess that means you did it," I said. "You must have had sex. I mean, you were with him for a long time, right? No way he'd be with someone so long and not…."

Rose interrupted me. "We never did," she said. "There. Now I told you. So, just relax."

I was sort of surprised. "And he never… pushed you?"

"A little, I guess. But always gently, and he was always ready to accept 'no' as an answer."

"So, why didn't you want to?" I asked.

"God, Syd! You sounded annoyed when you thought I _had_, and then when I say I _didn't_, you want to know why!"

"Well, why _didn't_ you?"

"I guess because… it didn't feel right." Her voice grew quieter. "I was still in love with Dimitri."

"The whole time?"

"Deep down, yeah."

"Then why were you even with Adrian?"

"It's hard to explain," Rose said. "I guess I was really good at lying to myself back then, you know? Telling myself that I could love Adrian as much as I had loved Dimitri. Telling myself I didn't love Dimitri anymore. And almost believing it." She sighed gustily. "I don't know. I'm not a psychiatrist or anything. I guess people do weird things when person they love dies and then turns out to be not dead but really an undead monster who stalks them and then comes back to real life and then acts really weird to them." She gave a little laugh.

"I guess that would create an unusual psychiatric profile," I admitted.

"And it might not justify my mistakes, but... at least it explains them," Rose said. "So, yeah. And you know something? You can only lie to yourself for so long. Something inside you will fight back. It always does. And you can never be really at peace until you're honest with yourself."

"Are you telling me this for any particular reason?" I asked. Her words had actually struck a chord inside of me. Did I lie to myself? And if so, when? I put the question aside for later.

"No," Rose said cheerfully. "I just thought you might enjoy the insight in case it comes in handy. Anyway, I answered your extremely invasive and rude question. The least you can do is explain why you're asking. Does all this mean that you forgave Adrian?"

"I forgave him," I said, slowly. So much had happened since she and I had last talked.

"Ok, Sydney?" Rose sounded a little peeved. "You're not allowed to just call and pick my brain, then turn around and keep all your cards up to your chest, you know? Seriously. Let it out."

"You're mixing your metaphors," I said.

"And you're being a punk," Rose said.

"Fine." I swallowed. "Adrian and I have reached a tentative agreement to spend more time together."

"You sound _delighted_ about it." I could almost feel her roll her eyes from the other end of the line.

"I'm terrified," I said. The words were out of my mouth almost before I knew what I had been about to say.

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and then Rose said, "I bet you are. It must be really scary, huh?"

"Yes," I said.

"You've never dated anyone, have you – Moroi or human?"

"No," I said.

"And you're diving right into the deep end of the swimming pool!" Rose laughed a little, but I was quiet. After a moment, Rose added, "Don't worry, Syd. Adrian wouldn't hurt you. I know it's gotta be weird for you, for like, a million reasons, but... He's a really good person."

"He's a party boy," I said. "He'll get bored with me. I don't… I'm not…. I'm not a feeder. Or a… you know. Party girl."

"I'm sure he's aware of that," Rose said, dryly. "But for some reason, he likes you anyway. I wouldn't over-analyze it. If Adrian wanted a party-girl he'd go get one. And why do you bring up feeders? What do they have to do with it?"

"What if he wants to bite me?" I said. My voice had dropped to a whisper.

"He…. Yeah, he may _want_ to," Rose admitted. "But he never _would_ unless you let him. I was in a similar position. Moroi sometimes bite dhampirs."

"Did he ever…"

"Sydney? There are limits."

"So he did!"

"He never pushed me," Rose said. "Maybe we did, maybe we didn't." She sounded really uncomfortable. "Either way, he never like, had any expectations from me on that front. And I'm sure he wouldn't push you, either. Especially because he knows how you were brought up and how you must feel about it."

"It's all so disgusting," I said. "Sucking blood from other people. I feel really sorry for feeders - giving up their soul just for the delights of the flesh."

"Their soul?" Rose said, surprised.

"Feeders give up their claim to heaven," I said.

"If you say so," Rose said. "I guess I'm going to hell, then, since I let Lissa drink from me when we were on the run."

"That's different," I said, chastened. "You were trying to help your friend. It was really gross and stuff but I don't know, I mean, if dhampirs get to go to heaven at all I don't think you hurt your chances too much."

"Gee, thanks," Rose said. "Anyway, you're going to have to get over your whole blood fear thing. You're dating a Moroi. It's kind of just how it works." Her voice was oddly gentle, despite her harsh words. "

"I don't know if I _can_ get over it," I said.

"I think you can," Rose said. "Love makes you do the wacky. Believe me, I know."

"I'm not in love with him," I said.

"Sure," said Rose. "That sounds likely."

"I barely know him," I said.

"Yes, and you're considering giving up everything that's important to you, just to spend more time with him. Sounds very unemotional and logical."

"I know it's… an unusual step," I said. "But I'm not in love."

"Ok," said Rose. "You're not. Call me when you figure out that you are, ok?"

"Do you not _like_ getting phone calls from me?"

"Ha!" said Rose. "I love getting phone calls from you. I love discussing my Moroi ex-boyfriend with the human girl who is now dating him. Yes. That is what I like best."

"You called _me_," I said.

"I just needed to know what was going on," said Rose. "Even if it _is_ kind of gross."

"Hey!" I said. "I thought the whole point of your story was that you have to … follow your heart. Wasn't that the point?"

"I guess, yeah," Rose answered. "And, obvs, I don't really blame you for liking Adrian. And I won't like, abjure your company. But, it's still a little… eww."

"Because I'm human, or because he's your ex?" I asked.

"Yes," said Rose. "But… it doesn't really matter what I think. It matters what you two think. Are you … happy? So far?"

I thought about it. Happy seemed like such a stupid word. When I was with Adrian, I was on fire, I was swimming in a deep blue sea, I was walking on a tightrope, I was asleep in a cloud…. "Yes," I said. "I'm happy."

"Good," said Rose. "Then go be gross with your boyfriend. But don't give me any details, please. I do NOT need those."

"Ok. I didn't plan on supplying them."

There was a short pause on the line before Rose said, "How's Jill, by the way?"

"She's fine," I said.

"What does she think of you and Adrian?"

"She doesn't know."

"How can she not know?"

"He's getting better about keeping the wall up," I said.

"Wow," she said. "Just a few months ago, she knew every time he sneezed or scratched a mosquito bite."

"He's working hard," I said.

Rose snorted. "That doesn't sound like Adrian."

"Maybe he's changed."

"Ooooh," Rose said, teasingly. "Maybe he's changing for you."

"I think… at least, I hope… he's changing for himself," I said.

"Yeah, I think that's best," Rose agreed, the teasing note gone from her voice. "But Syd? If you're really going to keep doing this... thing..." She shuddered a little. "You two should really tell Jill. She's going to find out anyway, you know?"

"That's what Eddie said," I told her.

"Well, he was right," she said.

"I'll think about it," I said, repeating what I had told Eddie.

"You better."

"I have to go to breakfast now," I said, to cut off any further admonition from her.

"Ok, go on, go to breakfast, I'll talk to you later."

We said our goodbyes and hung up, and I went down to breakfast. It was time to play nice with Eddie and pretend that we hadn't had a fight. It was time to be an alchemist again. You know, a professional, a person who doesn't date the same monsters that she had always sworn to protect the world from.

_Updated: September 3, 2012_


	8. I: Things Im Not Thinking About

**Chapter 8: Things I'm Not Thinking About**

A few weeks passed, and I fell into a sort of new routine: school, volleyball, rest, school,volleyball, dreams, school, feedings, rest, short real visits to Adrian, school, dreams.

I still went to self-defense with Eddie and Jill most mornings. One morning Eddie pointed out that we shouldn't get overconfident, since what we were practicing would probably not stop a Strigoi. I just shrugged my shoulders, unconcerned. I wasn't really afraid of Strigoi these days. There was another specter on the horizon, something scarier, something like a dark cloud with an angry, disapproving face. I didn't like to really think about what really was frightening me.

Another morning, Jill paused while she and I were practicing throws. My arm was around her neck, and she paused to sniff me, then asked, "Hey, have you seen Adrian lately?"

"No," I said, my heart-rate doubling suddenly.

"That's so strange," she said, thoughtfully. "You smell like him."

I hadn't _seen_ him in days, but I had spent the previous night with him in Istanbul, touring the Agia Sophia and the Blue Mosque, and then making out in the courtyard at the Topkapi Palace. "This is the largest palace in the world by area," I had whispered to him. "The nearby Dolmabahce Palace has been compared to Versailles for its opulance but I much prefer the history here, you know?" His only answer had been more kisses. I drove him nuts with my over-educated, over-informed routine. I kind of loved that I could just unleash my nerd at him and it just made him like me more.

"I guess it's this," I said to Jill, gesturing to my shirt. "I um, borrowed it from him, because he spilled paint on my shirt when um... I gave him a ride... to... class..." I trailed off.

"Oh," Jill said. "It looks small for one of Adrian's shirts."

"Yeah, well, it shrank when I washed it."

"If you washed it, then why does it still smell like Adrian?" she asked.

"I guess he never washed it when it was his," I said. "It'll probably take two or three more washes to get it really clean."

"Typical Adrian," Jill said, with a sigh. Over her shoulder, I could see Eddie rolling his eyes. I wanted to tell him that I really hadn't seen Adrian in days, but how could I explain to Eddie that somehow spending time with Adrian in dreams was making me smell like him? Especially since I really didn't understand it myself? The significance of the affects our dreams were having on our reality was something I really didn't want to think about it.

There were a lot of things I didn't want to think about. Like, what was I going to do about Adrian, long term? I saw him as often as I could. We could only meet in dreams two or three nights a week, because we were afraid to use too much spirit, and afraid to stress out my body and mind. We talked on the phone for a little bit most nights, and I'd often get texts from him during the day that would make me smile. And the thought of all of this having to end someday just so that I could go back to the alchemists with nothing to hide…. It wasn't something I could face.

So, we couldn't meet in dreams too often, and seeing each other in person was even more difficult. Of course, I could see him when I took Jill to visit Adrian. It was always strange to see him on these occasions. Eddie would be watching us so carefully that we couldn't so much as hold hands. But sometimes we'd find ourselves next to each other for a minute or two. We'd brush up against each other ever-so-slightly at the kitchen counter when we were serving up snacks, or our knees would touch when we were sitting on the couch. And then when we pulled away again…. Have you ever held a strong magnet next to the refrigerator? When you get it close enough, you can actually feel the magnetic energy, drawing the metals together. It was like that with Adrian and me. I could actually feel the energy passing back and forth between us. I felt like we could have stretched a wire between us and it would have lit up like a Tesla coil, with enough electricity to power a whole neighborhood.

The only time I had with him, privately and not in a dream, was on Thursdays, when I had a double free right after lunch. Every Thursday at 11:54 a.m. when my class let out, I'd sprint to my car and drive well over the speed limit to Adrian's apartment. He always met me at his door with a gracious bow, saying something like, "Hello, my beautiful golden-eyed girl. Would you care to step inside my gracious living room?" He would barely have time to get the words out because I would already be throwing him against the door so that our weight closed it. "I'll take that as a yes, then, shall I?" he'd say, or sometimes just, "Oh, Sydney…." And then we would fall back on his couch, barely saying a word for a long, long time. I don't know why it was that kissing him in reality was so much better than in dreams. Something about the real presence of him…. Yeah, spirit dreams were good, but reality was better, and we always used that scant hour and a half as best we could. Then we'd say our quick goodbyes and I'd race back in time for my chemistry class.

"Isn't this dangerous?" Adrian asked me once, when we'd paused a little. I was lying on top of him, and both our shirts were off. His fingers were fiddling with my bra straps.

"Dangerous?" I asked, feeling a little hazy. "Hmmm?"

"Aren't you worried that you're… being watched? Or something? That someone will notice you coming over every Thursday?"

"We'll say that we were meeting for a weekly status report or something," I said. I didn't want to think about spies. They were just… hypothetical, after all.

"Ahhhh," he said, as I nibbled on his shoulder. "That… ah… sow-how-hounds like a plan. Status meeting it is. What _is_ your status, by the way?"

"Excellent," I said. "Yours?"

"Pretty fantastic," he said. Then we didn't say much for a while.

We had more time to talk when we traveled in dreams. We went to Paris, Berlin, Madrid…. And then we started to push the boundaries more and more, going into buildings that Adrian had only ever walked past, and exploring neighborhoods he'd only driven through briefly. We also managed to walk around Tokyo and St. Petersberg, places that I'd been, and Adrian was able to get his placement from my mind.

But no matter where we went, we had a great time. In Paris, we went to the famous Montmartre neighborhood, rode up the funicular to the top of the hill, then sat on the steps by the Sacre Coure. "If you came here at night," Adrian told me, as we held hands looking out over the city, "there would be all these guys coming around selling cold beer. Everyone sits and drinks the beer, talking to each other, watching the street performers. Then every hour, the Eiffel Tower sparkles all over for five minutes. You can just barely see it from behind those trees." He gestured, and I could just barely see it.

"Should we go to the top?" I asked, vaguely.

"Do you want to?" he asked.

"Not right now," I said. "How about next time we come here?"

"That's fair," he said, and we sat a while longer, just feeling happy to be together.

After that, we walked a ways downhill, passing the apartment where Van Gogh had lived for a short while – the current owners kept it empty, two sunflowers stuck into the shutters the only sign of its former occupant – then sat down at a tiny cafe across the street from the original Moulin Rouge. I was just enjoying the bohemian feel of the place, with its hills, ivy, and artistic graffiti, when I looked up to see Adrian dressed as a waiter. He served me éclairs and coffee and gave me flowers, whispering fake French in my ear. Finally, he handed me a napkin with his phone number on it, and said, "Eeef you want to deetch your boyfriend, call zis number. I weel come to you, mademoiselle, day or night!" When I started to giggle, he began kissing my hand and arm noisily. I tucked the napkin into my bra, which made Adrian pull at his collar comically.

"Kiss me quickly," I said, "before my boyfriend comes back. He's a vampire and he'll _kill you._" Then we kissed so hard that we knocked the little spindly café chairs over and rolled on the ground.

On another night, we went to Prague, a lovely city that had managed to escape most of bombing that had decimated so much of the rest of Europe. We found the statue of King Wenceslas in the elegant main square, then ducked into a shopping mall to find the parody statue, in which the king was riding a dead horse hung upside down, its tongue hanging out. "It's a comment on… something," Adrian whispered to me, as we stared at it.

"It's art," I whispered back.

"I could be a sculptor too, don't you think?" he asked.

"You'd be great at it," I said.

"You really think so?" he asked, looking at me.

"Well… you're good with your hands," I offered.

"Am I?" he asked, and pulled me closer.

"I think that… oh… definitely…. You're very, very good."

On still another night, we decided to go to Budapest, a city that turned out not quite as pretty but a lot more interesting than Prague. Everywhere we went we saw remnants of the communist regime in the area, including public artworks that celebrated mechanics and farmers – the 'common man' who was nominally the hero of communist societies. We crossed the river and walked up the steep hill to get to the beautiful Buda castle, which Adrian recognized from a music video I had never seen. Adrian picked a few figs from a tree in the castle courtyard, and we ate them as we gazed down over the Danube River. Then we wandered in the nearby park, walking up and down the steep hills, and stopping when we found an interesting sculpture. It looked a little like a relief map of the city, but a man's body rose from one side of the river to reach for a woman rising from the other side.

"They must represent Buda and Pest," I said to Adrian. "See, Budapest used to be two cities, separated by the blue Danube. We're on the Buda side now, see the sculpture of the castle? So the man represents Buda, and the woman must represent Pest."

"Are they in love?" Adrian asked.

"Well, perhaps metaphorically. The two cities had long functioned as a single unit, and in 1873, not long after the birth of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, they merged to form a single administrative unit."

Adrian grinned. "Don't stop," he said, and bent to kiss my neck.

"It was particularly fitting that a… wow, that a dual city such as Budapest beca-a-a-a-me the capital of a dual… monarchy."

"Is that all you know?" Adrian asked.

"I know a lot more about the Austro-Hungarian Empire," I said.

"Tell me," he said, and then did things that made it almost impossible for me to speak, and we sank onto the nearest bench, clutching each other. The kissing had been getting more and more intense, and I knew that sooner or later, I'd have to make a decision about sex, but that was something else I wasn't thinking about.

And, so it went. We'd explore a city, we'd talk, we'd laugh, we'd kiss. Or sometimes we just met in my pine forest, for a quiet picnic and some time spent talking and cuddling and… yeah, kissing. After a few hours, though, we'd see that the sky above us was turning pink and we'd know that it was time go to "sleep." Adrian would find a door somewhere – in a castle wall, in a scrap of the remaining Berlin wall, or just in that same beautiful _Pinus ponderosa_. We'd open it, walk through, and find ourselves in his room with his big silky bed. We'd sink into bed together, wrapped as close together as we could get, and talk quietly about nothing in particular before we fell asleep. I'd kiss him goodnight and most nights, while he was distracted, I would adjust, ever so gently, that little instability in his mind. As long as I kept my corrections subtle, he didn't seem to notice, and the spirit darkness didn't grow in him like it had before.

In a lot of ways, those quiet moments together in his bed were my favorite. We were always tired by then, and I knew he wouldn't press me for sex when we were in a dream, so I could just relax in his arms. I loved just lying together, hearing his heartbeat, listening to the quiet sounds of the room.

Once, when we were lying there quietly, I picked up my head in surprise. "Is that the ocean I hear?" I asked him.

"You can hear that?" he asked me, surprised.

We both listened. "Yeah, it's coming from… your bedside table, I think. Do you keep the ocean in that little drawer?"

I could feel him smile in the dark. "No, Sage. I have a sound generator that I like to listen to at night, when I'm in bed. I usually set it on the ocean setting. It helps me relax. I don't know. Is that weird? Do you think I'm weird now?"

"Yes, _that's_ weird. Much weirder than you oh, say, drinking blood and doing magic."

"I know you think all _that's_ weird," he said, a slight note of hurt to his voice.

"It's ok," I said. "I don't really think about you doing those things. Well, I mean, the magic is pretty much ok now. I've gotten used to the dreaming thing. I don't think it's that bad. Everyone dreams. And telepathy has been documented in humans as well, so it isn't that weird."

"Glad to know you can explain it away," Adrian said dryly.

"Me too," I said, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice. "So really, it's just… the other thing. I don't really think about it."

"Hmmm," he said. "I guess… I guess that's one way to handle it. Better that than you being afraid of me, I guess. But I mean, you know what I do, and what I am, right?"

"Of course," I said. "I know. And now I know about your sound generator too!" I was changing the subject, and Adrian wisely let me.

"That is so strange that you can hear it," he said. "I don't know how the sound is coming through in the dream. Maybe we're sort of… actually here. I feel like when I dream-walk with you, we're more there than I usually am when I dream-walk. It feels much more solid. Maybe we sort of really _are_ in this bed."

"Maybe," I said. It was starting to look like there was something strange going on with our dreams, that was for sure. In addition to the pine needle and the glitter, I had found lots of other stuff. When I woke up from our day on the black sand beaches of Santorini, I had found a tiny obsidian pebble in between my toes. I had actually gotten a tan line from the bright Croatian sun in the small town of Zadar, where we had gone to hear the famous sea organ and its mournful tunes. And hardest to ignore, I had found the napkin with Adrian's phone number on it, still stuffed inside my shirt, when I woke up from our Paris dream. There never seemed to be the right time to tell Adrian all this, especially because there never seemed to be the right time to even think about it. I was afraid that maybe Adrian wouldn't want to meet in dreams anymore if he knew how much stuff I kept finding in my room after dreams.

So, with all of this going on, it probably was a good thing that we couldn't meet up every night, especially since our volleyball team was practicing more intensely than ever to ramp up for our upcoming quarterfinals. I really needed more sleep, needed more of the deep cycle sleep that I didn't get when I dreamed with Adrian. I guess I could have let him heal me, but I just didn't want to make him use more spirit than he had to.

Maybe it was because I was so tired. Maybe I was just having a really great dream – a regular, private one. Either way, one morning I slept right through my alarm. I woke up to my phone ringing insistently. I sat up blearily, opening one eye to see who was calling, then hit the button to answer the call.

Adrian's cheerful voice greeted me. "Hello, my beautiful morning girl."

"I don't feel very beautiful," I groaned.

"Well, I'm sure you look it," he said. "I'm just calling to wake you up. I've been awake for hours, painting. I was just here, thinking of you a little, and I sensed that you were still asleep. I almost joined you for a bit of dream-cuddling, but then I looked at the clock. _You_ are supposed to be awake now. Don't you have a test this morning in math? And another one later, in history?"

I sat bolt upright. "Oh my God," I said. "I almost overslept."

"But! Your amazing boyfriend came to the rescue!" Adrian said. "Just think how it'd be if you… lived at my place. I could wake you every morning in a way that's a lot nicer than hearing a ringing telephone."

"That'd be nice," I said. It felt stilted, formal. It wasn't what I wanted to say at all. I wanted to tell him how touched I was that he was always looking out for me. I wanted to tell him how much he meant to me, how much it meant that he thought about little things like this. But something got caught in my throat, as it so often did when I tried to talk to Adrian about... you know, feelings. Finally I managed to say, "It was really considerate of you to call me and check on me. I would have overslept and missed the test if it weren't for you. So… thank you. I… appreciate it."

"It's nice to be appreciated," Adrian said. "And of course, I'm nothing if not considerate."

_What would Rose say?_ I thought desperately. Would she call him sexy, or something, or handsome, maybe? Would she promise to make up his favor with some sort of sexual act later? I didn't know what to say. The silence lengthened. Finally, Adrian said, "Well, I'll let you get ready."

"Ok, goodbye. Um, handsome." But I was saying it to an empty line, which I was actually kind of glad about. _Handsome_? I wasn't Rose, and I wasn't even sure that _she_ would say something so cheesy.

But I didn't have time to think about this unsettling conversation. I got ready in minutes, grabbed a banana from the dining hall to eat as I ran, texted Eddie to apologize for having missed self-defense, and scooted down to period one. I finished my math test in half the allotted time, then wrote out a proof of Fermat's Last Theorem on the back of one of the pages for extra credit. The whole time, half my attention was devoted to what I should have said to Adrian this morning. Even with all the time in the world to think, I still didn't know what the right words were. I did know that I wanted to just _talk_ to him again. If I could just see him, I could explain.

I tried to put that thought aside and went through my day. Soon it was time for history, which meant my second test of the morning. Ms. Terwiliger handed out the test papers, and everyone set to work. As usual, I was sitting in the front row, not far from the teacher's desk. The jock sitting next to me seemed to give up almost immediately on the test, breaking his pencil in half and throwing it on the floor before he put his head down to go to sleep. _Sleep_…. I thought, longingly. I was still so tired. But I had a test to take. I answered every question as quickly as I could without sacrificing accuracy. When I finished the test, I looked around the room. There were almost 20 minutes remaining on the clock, and everyone else was still working. I put my head down on my desk, following the example of the stellar student to my left.

I wasn't going to sleep, I thought. I would just rest. I'd call Adrian at lunchtime, maybe. But it'd be so much easier if I could just _see_ him. Adrian….

I heard the sound of water running and looked up. The room was empty now, no one sitting at any of the desks. Had I missed the bell? And then I noticed the room was not completely empty. Adrian was at the front of the classroom, washing dishes at a sink that was where Ms. Terwiliger's desk usually was. He was naked except for a black towel wrapped around his waist, and his hair was wet and dripping, sending little rivulets of water down his lithe back. He seemed to not be aware of what a strange situation he was in.

I sat up in my chair and called his name. He turned around and almost dropped the dish he was holding in his surprise. He _did_ drop the towel, and I looked away as quickly as I could. It wasn't quite quickly enough, and I took a quick deep breath. Wow. Just… wow.

"It's safe to look back," Adrian said. "Come on, Sydney." I looked back and he had the towel wrapped securely around his waist again. The sink had disappeared, replaced by Ms. Terwiliger's desk, and Adrian was looking around the room. "So," he said pleasantly. "Where are we?"

"History class," I said. I got up and walked the short distance towards him, and he settled back on the desk, his hair dripping a little on some of the papers.

"Ah, yes. That would explain the little half desks. I always hated these things. Nowhere to really put your books." He put one arm around my waist, reserving one hand to keep his towel in place.

"What the heck is going on?" I asked.

"I'm not sure," he said. "But I can guess, sort of."

"Ok, so… go on, guess."

We both leaned back from the hug so we could look each other in the eye. "Well," he said. "Usually, I'm awake when I start a spirit dream. I find where you are, sleeping, and I go join you. It's hard to explain how I do it. God knows I've tried to explain it to Lissa often enough. The best I can do is to say that it's like tuning into a radio station or something. I tune into you and find you and… yeah, that's that. But today, when I was washing the dishes, it was like the radio turning on all by itself, really loud, too." I blinked at him, and after a moment, he added, "That's my way of saying that I think you initiated the spirit dream."

I tried to comprehend that. "No way," I said. "I don't do magic."

"Well, it wasn't me who started it, Sage."

"Were you awake or asleep?"

"Unless I've developed a talent for washing dishes while sleep-walking, I'm pretty sure that I was awake. I was washing dishes, and I heard you call my name. And then here we were, in your classroom. With me in this towel. I hope I don't get in trouble for breaking dress code…."

I hid a smile and dropped my gaze. "If it really was me starting the spirit dream connection, I don't know how I did it. I'm human. I don't do magic."

"We don't have to call it magic. Wasn't it you who pointed out that humans can do telepathy? Maybe you're just telepathic."

"I highly doubt that," I said. "Anyway, whatever I did, I'm sorry that I invaded your privacy. I didn't mean to, that's for sure."

He tilted my chin up with his hand so that I had to look him in the eye again. "Are you _sure_ that you didn't mean to? I mean… is there anything that maybe you wanted to say to me?"

Was that it? Had I just wanted to see him so badly that I made it happen? It didn't really make sense, but it was the best explanation we had. I realized that he was actually asking me a question, though, and that I had to answer it.

"I guess I did want to say something," I said. "I um, wanted to say thank you again. For waking me up this morning. I think you're… great. For thinking about me and looking out for me. I really… care about you."

A smile twisted up one corner of his mouth. "I care about you too, Sage."

It was still so lame. "I'm not good at this," I said, miserably.

He laughed and pulled me close. "Well, I know something you are pretty good at," he said, and gave me a kiss. I kissed him back, trying to put some of what I wanted to say into the pressure of my lips, into the movement of my tongue. The heat picked up between us, as it always did. He pulled back suddenly, breathing heavily. "I don't know what'll happen to your body out there," he said. "I don't want you to get kicked out of class."

I had an image of me, sleep-kissing a neighbor or something. "Yeah, that's probably for the best," I agreed.

"So…" he said, as we both tried to calm down a little. He looked around the room and took in the random geegaws that Ms. Terwiliger had chosen to decorate with. There were also the usual assortment of posters encouraging us to read and stuff like that. "This is your history classroom? Pretty awful."

"Yeah, it kind of is. I could have picked a more interesting place for us to meet," I said. "Or at least dressed the place up a bit. It's exactly the same as it is in real life, all the way down to that stupid broken pencil." I looked down and saw that the pencil that my neighbor had broken at the start of the lesson was still on the floor near my desk. I didn't like broken, messy things, so without really concentrating, I mended the pencil. After the two pieces had melded back together, it jumped meekly back up onto my neighbor's desk. I smiled. That was much better.

Adrian watched all this with amusement. "You're cute," he said, absently, then added, "We're meeting later tonight, right?"

"Yes," I said.

He studied me. "You look so tired. Do you feel well enough to meet?" He put a gentle hand on my cheek. "Let me just…" he said. I felt a little wave of warm and cold over me, and for once, I didn't stop Adrian from using his gift. He re-energized me, healed that exhaustion and lack of focus that my hectic schedule had started to cause me. He kissed my forehead. "That's better," he said. "Now go on back and finish your test."

"I already finished it," I said.

"And got a perfect score, I'm sure," he said. "And to celebrate, I have something great planned. I want to take you to one of my favorite places."

"Ooooh, where?" I asked.

"Have you ever been to Portugal?"

"No."

"Have you ever wanted to go?"

Something about the eagerness of his tone prevented me from telling him the truth, which was that Portugal had never really interested me. "I guess I don't know a lot about Portugal," I said.

"Well, you'll learn something about it tonight," he said. "I adore you, by the way. Go wake up."

"Wait," I said. "Um. I adore you too." The words came out in a whisper. Adrian stared at me. "I do," I said. It was still stilted, and weird, and awkward, but it was the best I could do.

Adrian smiled. "That will do for now, my golden-eyed girl," he said. "I know what you're trying to say." He gave me a soft kiss on the cheek. "Now go on, wake up." He poked me in the nose with his finger and…

…I sat up with a start, guiltily wiping a tiny bit of drool from my cheek. The kid next to me was still asleep. In fact, nothing in the room had changed – people were still scribbling furiously on their test papers. I looked back at my sleeping neighbor, wondering if maybe I should wake him up. I could grab the pencil from his desk and poke him with it…. Wait, what? His pencil?

I looked more closely. The pencil that he had broken in half – the one that I had repaired in my dream – sat in the rivet at the top of the desk without so much a chip in its paint.

I looked away from it quickly, using all my wherewithal to stay seated and not run out of the room. Ok, I told myself. One more thing to not think about. That's fine. I'm getting really good at that. But then I stole a quick glance back at the pencil. The scientist in me told me to steal it, to examine it later. So, I did. Sleeping Beauty didn't so much as stir.

I spent the last five minutes of class drawing a doodle of the Pantheon in Rome in the margin of my test paper. I made sure to label the different parts by century of completion, just in case Ms. Terwiliger wanted to give me some extra credit. Then when the bell rang, I handed in my paper and tried to leave the room, desperate to be somewhere else. But of course, Ms. Terwiliger stopped me.

"Did you have a nice dream?" she asked.

"What?" I asked, startled.

"Just now. At your desk."

"Oh, Ma'am, I'm so sorry I fell asleep. I was just so tired. I did finish my test first, and I feel fairly certain that I did well …"

"You misunderstand me, Miss Melbourne. I asked about your dream."

"I don't think I actually had a dream, Ma'am, I just fell asleep for a second."

"I doubt that," she replied. "I got a really interesting… what do the kids call it? A vibe? Yes, a vibe. I got a really interesting _vibe_ from your dream. That was an interesting dream that I think you had. It left you positively _glowing_." She held up some papers from her desk that were clearly speckled with drops of water. The ink had run in a few places. "Any idea where this came from?" she asked, pointing.

"No, Ma'am," I said. "Maybe the ceiling is leaking."

"Maybe," she said. She peered closely at the pencil in my hand. "That's a very interesting pencil," she added.

"Not really," I said. "It's just graphite and wood. A normal pencil. Um, I'm going to be late for my next class, Ma'am."

"Very well," she said. "Go on, then."

I walked out as quickly as I could without actually running. My next class was across campus, and I took a short-cut that went outside. As I walked, I passed near the area where my "siblings" and I practiced self-defense in the mornings. I was a little surprised to see Eddie and Jill sitting under the California fan palm tree that I had pointed out. I could tell, even from where I was, that they were both really happy as they ate a little picnic lunch. Especially Eddie. He was gazing at Jill with such a clear look of love and adoration that I wondered, again, how she hadn't noticed. I hoped that no one else could see the look on Eddie's face, or they'd think something was really weird about our "family."

"Yeah, like _that's_ my big problem," I muttered out loud as I looked down at the pencil in my hand. Then I kept up my quick march to my next class.

I got through the afternoon and evening without thinking too much about the pencil. I went to volleyball practice and tried, unsuccessfully, to pay attention as our coach yelled at us about shaping up for quarterfinals next week. At dinner I let everyone else talk and mostly just sort of smiled pleasantly, my mind elsewhere, my salad almost untouched. Back in my room, I worked on my homework for a while, but then, unable to concentrate, I got out the pencil and stared at it.

It looked just like an ordinary pencil. But I knew it wasn't ordinary, at least, not any more.

I had to do something, so I got out my alchemist kit and pulled out the necessary materials to run a compositional analysis. Not too surprisingly, the pencil consisted mainly of graphite and wood. There was also a bit of paint and some biological sediment, skin cells mostly, as well as some saliva. Ewww.

Reluctantly, I faced the fact that further work was necessary. I pulled out a small beaker to begin mixing the materials for a solution that some less formal alchemists called "Mag-i-nol." It was similar to Luminol except that it was able to identify magical traces rather than biological ones. I applied the liquid to the pencil and dimmed the lights in my room. The pencil glowed a faint green, indicating the lingering presence of magic.

_There's a shocker_, muttered a tiny voice in my head, sarcastically. I ignored it.

I looked at the pencil. It was unacceptable. There couldn't be magic here, not on the pencil, not because of me and my influence. The implications would be impossible to ignore if I had repaired the pencil with magic.

"You're _not_ fixed," I whispered to the thing, desperately. "You _can't_ be." A sudden gust of air blew from the pencil, directly at my face, making me close my eyes for a second. Something fluttered past me, and when I looked back at the pencil, it was in two pieces again. "That's better," I whispered. It _was_ better this way. It was one thing if Adrian did magic, seeing as how he was… what he was. It was another thing altogether if I did magic. I was human. Magic wasn't for me.

I looked up at the collection of objects I had on my windowsill and considered testing them too. But what would be the point? Either they would react to the test, or they wouldn't. If they didn't react, then they weren't magic, in which case I could safely ignore them. If they were magic, then... well, maybe I'd ignore them all the more stringently then.

But I couldn't ignore them forever, I told myself. The time had come to start facing up to the reality of the situation.

"The course of action is obvious," I said to myself. "I have to stop dream-walking with Adrian."

_Updated/Revised September 3, 2012._


	9. I: The Traitor part 1

_A/N: So, in this chapter, almost everything that Adrian says about Porto echoes how I feel in real life. I really love Porto, and I wanted Adrian and Sydney to have their most important conversations so far in this lovely place. _

**Chapter 9: The Traitor (part 1)**

"The course of action is obvious," I said to myself. "I have to stop dream-walking with Adrian."

_But you're not going to stop, are you?_ said the traitorous little voice in my head. _You're going to dream-walk with him until your whole room is coated in the green glow of magic. You're going to _keep _meeting him in dreams because you can't stop. _

"Shut up," I muttered to the voice.

_And then when you have to stop, _it continued relentlessly_, when it's time to give Adrian back to his own world and go back to yours, it's going to half-kill you, isn't it?_

"Shut up, Traitor," I muttered again, and packed up my alchemist kit.

I tried to study for a bit, but it was a lost cause. I finally decided to give up and go to bed. I brushed my teeth, changed into pajamas, and crawled between the sheets.

How was I going to sleep? Adrian and the pencil. The pencil and Adrian. My mind was spinning around those two ideas, like a planet around a binary star.

I had to tell Adrian about the pencil, I knew. But how could I? How could I tell Adrian that somehow, what we were doing in dreams was seeping into reality? My God, I was never going to be able to sleep. I was just going to be awake all night. I was…

… I was on the corner of a European city street. All around me were beautiful buildings in a style I didn't quite recognize. While many of them looked shabby and in need of repair, they still were almost immediately charming, with terracotta roofs, wide French windows, and flower boxes decorating their ornate iron balconies.

On the corner opposite from where I stood was a building that immediately drew my attention. It was shaped like a big box and was two or three stories tall. It had only a few small windows close to the roof, and only the small cross on its roof marked it as a church. What had me staring was the decoration that covered almost ever inch of its exterior. The entire building was covered in large, intricately painted blue and white tiles. The tiles looked almost like fine china, and it made the church look like a collectible figurine of a building built to full scale. I had never seen anything like it, not even in photos. I stood with my mouth open, unable to look away. For some reason, the sight just filled me with joy.

Adrian appeared at my side. He put his arm around my waist and said, "Pretty amazing, isn't it?" He gave me a kiss on the cheek. As always when he came near, I felt that combination of utter calm and vibrant, almost painful, excitement. "When I first came to this city," Adrian went on, "I got out of that metro station behind you" – he pointed – "and this church was the first thing I saw when I came up the stairs. It was my first real sight in Portugal other than the airport and the metro station. When I saw it, I thought it must be important or famous or something, but no. It's just a normal church. People walk right by it all the time like it's nothing."

"I don't even know what to say," I said. "Can we get closer?"

"Of course," Adrian said. He took my arm and we crossed the street to get closer to the church and its beautiful blue and white tiles. The drawings on them looked painted by hand, and I wondered at the technique. Surprisingly, it wasn't just biblical scenes that were featured. Lazy shepherds, happy maidens, blooming flowers, and bowls of fruit embellished each tile.

"These blue and white tile things are all over Portugal," Adrian said. "I think they have them in other places, too, but they're big in Portugal especially. I think they're beautiful, personally, but they don't seem too well known. They're called _azulejos_, I think."

"They're not in any of my architecture books," I said, still staring. "I didn't know that Portugal had any unique or interesting architecture. Are we in Lisbon?" I asked.

"No, this is Porto," Adrian said. His voice seemed full of affection as he said the name. "Do you like it so far?"

"Yes," I said. "Are there more buildings like this?"

"Yes," he said, a big smile spreading across his face. "Tons. Come on."

He took my hand and we began to walk down the street. In some ways, it looked a lot like a typical western European city street. There were some normal little stores, and some really pretty, elegant buildings with wide, arched windows. But it felt a little different, too. Some of the buildings were clearly abandoned or even partially collapsed, and ivy grew up their shattered facades. Despite this, the ruins abutted clean, whole buildings, and life seemed to continue as if the near-ruins weren't even there. Colorful clothing was hung out to dry on many of the balcony railings, which despite the abandoned and ruined buildings, made the place feel alive and lived in. For the first time in a spirit dream, I missed the presence of the real people of the city we were visiting.

"What do you know about Porto?" Adrian asked as we walked.

"It's north of Lisbon," I said. "It stands astride the Douro river and is the namesake of port wine. It faces on the Atlantic so it doesn't enjoy warm Mediterranean weather." I paused. "That's pretty much all I know."

"So, I'm the tour guide for once?" Adrian said, with another smile.

"I guess you are," I said. We passed through a wide, elegant square and took a turn down a side alley, heading slightly downhill as we walked through twisty streets. We passed another church covered in the beautiful blue tiles, and other buildings covered in picturesque ivy. Then Adrian grabbed my hand to pull us to a stop.

"Let me start the tour here," Adrian said, and pointed to a building across the street from us. Well, "building" might be a generous term. Really, it was only a façade of a building, complete with trim and a bit of roof and even a wrought-iron balcony; the rest of the building had completely collapsed. Through the empty windows we could see the plants and trees growing in the alley behind what remained of the building. Beautiful climbing vines, sprouting bright purple trumpet flowers, curled through the windows and all over the iron balcony. I gasped.

"Those flowers," I said. "I think they're _Ipomoea, _but I've never seen so many in one place, growing wild. Wow. The whole scene… It's really lovely, like from a painting or something."

"Isn't it?" Adrian said. He turned to me with delight. "You _get_ it! I knew you would." He squeezed me to him and kissed the top of my head. It made me a little giddy. "In any other city someone would have torn that down, I think," he continued, as we walked a little closer. "I mean, there are like, actual buildings on each side, you know? Buildings that people live in and stuff. So in other cities, they'd say it's a 'safety concern' or something. Here they seem to understand that it's beautiful and they leave it. Or maybe it's just laziness, I don't know. But it's still beautiful. I'm so glad you like it too." He started to say more, but stopped.

"There's a sadness to this place," I said as we began walking again. "But it's dignified."

"That's a good way of putting it," Adrian said. Then he pointed out a church at the top of a nearby hill. "That's the church of Sao Francisco. We should duck in there, for just a minute. It's really... something." Adrian made a face, wrinkling his nose. "Not my favorite thing, but we'll save my favorites for last."

The church was at the top of a hill, and we dragged ourselves up the steep incline. I found myself a little disconcerted by the church's stony, Gothic exterior, but that was nothing compared to how I felt when I saw what was inside.

Everything I saw was golden. I mean, _everything_. This place was probably the goldest thing I'd ever seen, and I've spent time in some pretty gaudy places. Everything here practically dripped gold. The ceiling was elaborately decorated with gilded reliefs of angels, animals, and flowers. The walls were painted and molded and gilded. I wanted to squint.

"What the…."

"Follow me," said Adrian. "Let me show you my favorite bit, over here."

Feeling a little dazzled, I let him lead me to one of the altars. In amongst the baroque columns and gilded decorations was a strange scene that looked a little like a large version of a diorama that a child might make in elementary school, though it can be hoped that children don't make anything as gory as this. We were looking at several statues of several men in brown friar robes, apparently held captive at sword-point by other men. One of the friars was in the process of having his head cut off, and his semi-severed plaster head hung limply on his plaster neck.

"This is a church?" I asked, feeling slightly queasy. "I mean, I've seen my share of statues of martyrs and stuff, but this one is really… something."

"Crazy, isn't it?" Adrian said. "This is the altar to the Moroccan martyrs. I don't get it, myself. Apparently, they died for their beliefs, so they get a little altar in this wack-a-doo church celebrating how they got their heads cut off." He paused, seeming to consider that for a moment, then added, in a more serious tone: "I don't know if I believe in dying for my beliefs. I'd die for those I love, sure. But I'd rather live for my beliefs, you know?" He smiled a little. "It's easy to die, sometimes. You exit, stage left. Leave the mess for someone else. It's harder to live. I heard somewhere, 'The hardest thing in this world is to live in it.' "

I looked up at him. He looked down and gave me a smile.

"Where is all this coming from?" I asked him. "Did anyone you know die, leaving you with a mess?"

"Not really," he said. "I mean, my aunt." He paused, took in a deep breath, and let it out. "But I didn't mean her. I just meant that... well, people sometimes think it's noble to let yourself die. I've decided that it isn't." He looked away from me then, and I wondered what else was going on in his head. I didn't think I should push it, so I decided to change the subject a little.

"A lot of the alchemists would disagree with you," I said. "Martyrdom is pretty much top of the line form of death for us. We're always taught that it would be better to die than to let a Moroi feed off of you, or to even get ensconced in the Moroi world. It's better to go to heaven in a pure state." I said this in the lightest tone possible, then wondered whether I still believed in it. Did I really think that heaven would be denied me now? Surely God wouldn't punish me so stringently.

"That's why I always live so pure," said Adrian, in response to my comment. "I always drink my vodka straight." I hit him on the arm, but realized that I hadn't seen him drink too much in weeks. He still had a few drinks, but it wasn't like before, when even Jill had woken up with a hangover. It was nice to see how much he'd changed.

When we'd stared long enough at the bloody friars, we wandered a bit through the church, and I started to feel like I would overdose on all the gold. "Why did you bring me here?" I asked Adrian as we walked around. "I mean, it's interesting, but I'm surprised."

"Well, it's kind of a thing to see when you're in Porto," Adrian said. "But more than that, honestly, I was just curious what you'd think of it."

"It's ugly," I said promptly.

Adrian laughed. "I love that you said that," he said. "Count on you not to sugar coat it."

"I don't see the point in sugar coating. I don't know, it just isn't right, somehow," I commented, as we looked over more of the bizarre altars. "I feel about as far from God as possible, in this church."

"I know, right?" said Adrian. "Me too."

"Yeah, but you never feel close to God," I said.

"Not true!" Adrian retorted. "I feel close to God often. Like in our pine forest. I think He hangs around there."

I considered that. "Maybe," I said. "I could see that. At least, I could see God hanging out in a pine forest. A real one. Not a... spirit dream one." Was _our_ pine forest under His watchful eye too? And if God really was present in our pine forest, what did he think of what he saw us do there?

"In any case, I know what you're implying, but really, I do have a spiritual side," Adrian said. He paused, then added, "When we were done here, I was going to take us to the bridge, so we could see the view down to the Douro River, but do you want to make a quick stop first?"

"You're the tour guide today," I said. "I'll go wherever you want to take me."

"Oh man," he said. "If we weren't in a church I would have a _such_ an awesome reply to that." He grabbed my butt and squeezed it, and I swatted his hand away. He grinned. "Ok, let's go," he said, and we did.

We left the gold church and walked back down the hill. Adrian pointed out a little café as we passed by, saying that he had eaten there almost every day when he had stayed in Porto. The café was just a tiny shady courtyard, surrounded by trees and flowers, with a few small round tables and wrought iron chairs. Adrian told me how the old man and woman who ran the place got to like him after a while, and started giving him a free cookie with each sandwich or cup of coffee he got.

"They didn't really know English," he said. "And of course, I don't know a bit of Portuguese, except _obrigado_, which means 'thank you.' But still. I said 'obrigado' a lot to them, and they said it back to me a lot, and we smiled and got along smashingly. I wonder what they would have thought if they had known I was a vaaaaammmmmpire." He gave me an evil grin, showing his fangs.

I tried to smile, but I felt a little uncomfortable. His fangs were so sharp, and I so rarely saw them. By now I was really good at avoiding them when we kissed, and hardly ever thought about them. What _would_ the old man and woman have thought if they had seen his fangs? How would they have reacted if they had known what he was? Would they have run away in terror? They had nothing to fear from Adrian, of course. He wouldn't have hurt them, or anyone. I felt defensive, as if I were ready to fight anyone who said something bad about him. But at the same time, I was still more than a little afraid of his fangs, myself. It didn't make sense.

We began walking up a series of hilly side streets. Adrian and I held hands, and he happily pointed out some more buildings covered in those beautiful blue and white tiles. Many of them weren't churches – they were just ordinary homes, decorated with so much care and attention that I felt a little ashamed of the home I had grown up in, with its boring paint job and few pathetic flower pots.

As we walked, we chatted about my day. I did an impression of my coach yelling at us at volleyball practice that made Adrian laugh. He wished me luck on my upcoming quarter finals, promising to be there in the stands. Privately, I sort of hoped he would forget. Adrian watching me play might just make me more nervous.

Then we talked about his day. He told me that he had baked a cake, and he seemed so proud that I didn't even tease him about it. "Black forest!" he said, proudly. "You have to try it, Sage. It came out awesome."

I was just working up the nerve to tell him about the pencil when we got to the top of yet another hill and Adrian announced that we were at our destination. It turned out to be a big, castle-like cathedral.

"What is it called?" I asked, as we walked up to its front doors.

"It's just called the Cathedral," Adrian said. "No other name."

We slipped inside to find a fairly standard, but very pretty, church. Adrian whisked me through the aisles to a side door, which we then went through. Adrian said, "What I really want to show you is through here - the cloisters."

We stepped into a beautiful paved courtyard. I knew that this was the center of the area where the nuns or brothers of the church would have lived, back in the day. Shady walkways, lined with beautiful Gothic arches, ran around the four edges of the square yard. The paved courtyard was open to the bright blue sky, and sun poured in on the one large Gothic stone cross in its center. Along the walls under the eaves there were beautiful large _azulejos_ tiles.

We found a bench under the roofed walkway and sat down, holding hands and gazing at the center of the courtyard. I knew that there was _something_ to this place, but I waited for Adrian to tell me what it meant to him. Finally, he spoke.

"You know how you told me that the pine tree forest is your safe place?" he said. I nodded. "Well, this is mine."

"I get it," I said. It was a very calm place. A small brown bird flew over to us and sat at our feet, looking at us with its bright black eyes. I wondered if it was dreaming of being here, too, or if it was as much a part of the scenery as the buildings and streets. We looked at the bird in comfortable silence for a bit.

"Sometimes when I am fighting the spirit darkness," Adrian said after a while, "I picture this place. I imagine the arches and the tiles and stuff, and I don't really know why, but it makes me feel better. I know, it must seem weird, huh? Adrian Ivashkov plus a religious convent equals... weird. Almost a contradiction in terms."

I squeezed his hand. "It isn't weird," I said. "I can understand why you like this place. Thank you for taking me to see it." We both watched the bird take wing and fly away again.

"I'm not very religious," he said. "But that doesn't mean that I'm a frivolous party boy. I'm not who everyone seems to think I am."

"I know that," I said. "I'm not one of those people. You don't have to prove anything to me."

"Yeah," he said. "I know." He smiled at me, then leaned over to kiss my forehead. "It's one of the many reasons that I adore you. Another one is that you know basically everything." I started to protest, but he cut me off by asking, "Case in point, I bet you know what's going on with these tiles. Are those scenes from the Bible? They don't look Biblical to me."

I looked at them more carefully. There were turtledoves, flowers, and some scenes of a pair of lovers, looking like they could not be more crazy about each other if they tried. "They look like they're from the Song of Solomon," I said. "It _is_ part of the Bible – my favorite part, actually. 'For love is as strong as death,' " I recited. " 'Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame. Many waters cannot quench love, nor can rivers drown it.' "

" 'Many waters cannot quench love,' " Adrian repeated, after a thoughtful pause. "I really like that. I think I've heard that before, but I didn't know it was from the Bible."

"Yeah," I said. I was starting to feel self-conscious, even though Adrian appeared interested in what I was saying. This whole conversation was so strange for us that I was starting to worry that it would make Adrian uncomfortable or bored. "Bet you never thought that someday you'd be listening to Bible verses in a church courtyard, _voluntarily,_" I said.

"We're not in a church," he answered. "It's the cloisters. And I like hearing you talk about love." He reached out and ran a gentle finger along my lips, sending sparks shooting up and down my limbic system.

"Adrian," I said, trying to smile. "Come on."

"I'm been wanting to tell you something, Sydney," he said, moving to stroke my hair. "It's funny you would have quoted that verse." He paused. "It's just that… Sydney, the last few months have been so amazing. And I think I –"

I leaned forward and kissed him, effectively cutting him off.

"Really, Sydney?" he said, when we parted. "Kissing me in a church?"

"We're not in a church," I said. "We're in the cloisters."

"True," he said. "You make an excellent and valid point. Very little kissing has gone on here for many centuries. We should help make up for it." He leaned back into the kiss, and as so often happened when we were together, we lost a few minutes .

The funny thing was, I realized as we parted, that I hadn't even thought of kissing him as something God could possibly object to. How could God have a problem with it? Wasn't God all about love?

…Wait, what did I just think?

_You know what you thought_, the Traitor whispered.

"Shut up," I told it, internally.

"But seriously, Sydney," Adrian said. "Let me say what I was going to say." He took a deep breath. "Sydney, I–"

I pulled him back into a kiss. After a quick moment, he pulled away, looking at me quizzically. "You don't _want_ me to say it, do you?" he asked.

"Say what?" I asked, playing dumb.

"You know what!" Adrian sounded exasperated. "I'm trying to tell you that I -"

"Don't say it!" I said, more loudly than I had meant to.

"Why not?" Adrian almost whispered, after a moment.

"I don't know," I said. "But... just don't."

He looked away. He seemed to be staring at one of the nearby _azulejos_, but I doubt he actually really saw it. "I guess I have to respect that, Sydney," he said, finally. "But someday I'm going to say it. And you're going to hear it. But for now…." He stood up with an air of industry and gave me a faint smile. "Let's go for a little walk. I want to show you the bridge."

He offered me his hand to help me up too, but as we walked into the church and then back to the plaza outside, he dropped my hand. He led me through the plaza, then down a hill, the narrow streets twisting here and there.

Adrian was quiet, and I was worried that I had made him mad by not letting him say whatever it was that he had wanted to say. I couldn't remember any time recently when Adrian had been mad at me, and the feeling was strange. I was desperate to start a new topic, and I cast about wildly for something to say. I had noticed that everywhere in Porto, there were signs everywhere for something called "Super Bock," and so now I pointed one out to Adrian. "Can you explain these signs? They're very prominent."

"It's a kind of beer," Adrian said. "It's ok. Not great." Then he was quiet again.

"Who named it?" I asked. "A chicken?" I regretted it as soon as I said it. It was such an awful joke. But I had just wanted to break the tension.

Adrian said, with a straight face, "No, a super chicken. Like a really giant feathery _beast_." I giggled and he went on. "You know, 'cause sometimes, super giant chickens have a hard day at the factory…"

"What are they making at the factory?" I asked.

"Giant _eggs_, of course. Come on, Sage, get with the program. They're _chickens_." I giggled again, which seemed to encourage him. "So, the chickens have a long day..."

"... Making eggs," I supplied.

"Making _giant_ eggs," Adrian corrected, "and now they want a good beer to relax with. So they say to the bartender, 'Hey, none of that regular Bock for me. It's gotta be Super Bock.' " By then, I was laughing so hard that tears were in my eyes, and Adrian joined in, pulling me into a hug.

"You are _so_ not funny," I said, wiping away tears.

"Blame the super chickens," he said. "I'm just telling you about their beer preferences." That set me off again, and we laughed as we continued down the street. The slight coldness that had settled over us seemed to have evaporated, and I took his hand again.

Somehow, Adrian always did make me laugh, and always at the stupidest things. I had never known anyone who made me laugh so much, never in my life. When I was with him, things seemed so easy. He had taken my dumb joke and run with it, and kept going until it was funny. Being with him... It was like how it must feel to walk on the moon instead of on Earth. Adrian lightened my gravity, and every step I took made me leap two or three feet straight in the air.

_I know what _that _sounds like_, whispered the Traitor.

"Shut up," I told it.

_Another A/N: I just wanted to say that I'm not super religious or anything, so I'm sorry if I offended anyone with this chapter. I'm just trying to help Sydney find a way to fit her feelings for Adrian into her core beliefs. _

_Updated September 8, 2012._


	10. I: The Traitor part 2

**Chapter 9: The Traitor (part 2)**

We walked around a corner and suddenly we could see a wide blueish-green river, flowing slowly, far downhill from us. "That's the Douro," said Adrian. "I love the walk down to the bridge. You'll see why in a second."

We walked down the curving road, which snaked back and forth so that it wasn't too steep. When we came around another bend, I put my hand to my mouth and gasped. Stretching down to the river was a beautiful terraced landscape of trees, winding lanes, and terracotta roofs. Many of the roofs belonged to partially collapsed or derelict buildings, and curling over almost everything in sight were more of those beautiful vines, all blooming with purple trumpet flowers. It might sound kind of weird, but it was all so beautiful that I actually felt tears come to my eyes.

Adrian didn't even ask what I thought. He just pulled me to him, and we stood looking out over the view with our arms around each other.

"You should paint this," I said, after a few minutes.

"Maybe I will," he said. He looked at me and gestured downhill with his head, and we began walking down towards the bridge again.

"When I was here a few years ago with some friends of mine," Adrian said as we walked, "they didn't get it. They wanted to go straight on to Lisbon after only a day or two. Don't get me wrong – I like Lisbon, actually. I like all of Portugal when you get down to it. But for me? Porto is where it's at. When my friends left for Lisbon, I went with them, but a few days later, I just came back up here."

"By yourself?" I asked. I had trouble imagining Adrian alone in a strange city.

"Yeah. Weird, huh? I just missed Porto. Maybe it's the sadness that I like. I bet you never would have thought that I'd like a sad place. But it isn't only sadness. It's a sort of pride, like you said. I don't know."

We walked down to the level of the bridge, hand in hand, chatting about Adrian's time in Porto and how he'd spent his evenings wandering the streets and going to hear the _fado_ singers sing about lost love in Portuguese. His stories were always about evenings, nights, and occasionally dawns, and I was reminded of how, if left to his own devices, Adrian would choose a Moroi schedule of sleeping during the day and being awake at night. This reminded me of his sun-sensitivity, and just then I noticed that a little cloud seemed to be trailing along the sky above us, creating shade just for Adrian as we walked. I pursed my lips together to hide a smile.

"In the summer," Adrian said as we began to cross the bridge, "you'll see boys as young as ten or eleven jumping off this bridge. They swim to shore, scramble back up, and jump right back in. It's how they spend the day." He grinned. "Do you want try?"

"Maybe later," I said.

"I'd do it," he said. "But the water looks too cold."

"Of course," I said. "You're a bad-ass."

He winked at me in reply. "You know it, babe," he said.

"So, bad-ass, how's the painting going?" I asked.

"It's really good, actually," Adrian replied. "I've been doing a series featuring doors.… Doors in walls, doors in the air, doors in trees…. I don't know where I got the idea," he said, as a door appeared in the beam of the bridge as we passed. It shimmered, then disappeared again.

"I love the idea," I said. "Doors are always so evocative, thematically. Can I see the door paintings when I come over next time?" Adrian had gotten really cagey lately about letting me see his paintings, hiding them in his room when anyone came to visit.

"Well, since a bunch of people might be seeing several of them soon, you might as well be the first," he said. I asked him what that meant, and he explained. "There's an exhibition coming up and my professor wants me to show a few of my favorites. I was thinking I'd choose a few from my door series, because I obviously can't use the ones from my other series."

"What other series?" I asked, trying not to sound like I was prying. We had reached the other side of the bridge, and we started down a paved walkway towards the water.

"I've been doing paintings of you," he said, a little hesitantly. "But I can't exhibit those, obviously."

"Why not?" I asked. "You could just say that you did some portraits of your sister. That's not too weird."

"No one seeing those paintings would buy that you're my sister. Or if they did, they would think our family was really strange. It's too bad," he sighed. "I wish we were able to be more open, you know? Like other couples."

I didn't know what to say to that. It was impossible, right? It was like wishing that we could flap our arms and fly. So, I just agreed with him, and then asked if I could see some of the paintings he had done of me.

"Soon, you can," he said. "There's one I'm working on that I can't get right. When I finish it you can come see it."

"Ok," I said. His shyness touched me, since he was so rarely shy about anything. "I look forward to it."

We were very close to the river now, and we looked down into the greenish water to see dozens and dozens of huge fat fish. They seemed happy, swimming along slowly in a tight group, enjoying the day and each other's company. They also looked like they'd be delicious, a thought that made me feel slightly guilty.

"Those are some fat fish," said Adrian. "I don't know if I want to pet them, or catch them and eat them."

"I doubt they'd much enjoy either alternative," I pointed out.

"You and your logic," he said, and we laughed and walked on.

Up ahead, I could see a building with a huge sign sticking up from the roof. The sign showed just a single mysterious word – SANDEMAN – and featured a cut-out picture of a cloaked male figure in a flat black hat."What is that about?" I asked, pointing.

"That's the Sandeman logo. The figure is the Sandeman... _guy_. He's their mascot or symbol or whatever. I think he looks like Tuxedo Mask, but with a glass of port instead of a rose." I thought about asking who Tuxedo Mask was, and then decided not to bother. "I guess Sandeman is the most well known brand of port," Adrian went on. "People like the mascot, I think. But it's not the best port, if you ask me. Hey, have you ever even had port?"

"Well, considering that I'm not an old Englishman with a monocle and a top hat, no," I said.

"You haven't lived until you've had a good 30- or 40-year-old port," Adrian said. "You wouldn't believe it. Come on, this section of town, Vila Nova de Gaia, is where they keep the really good port. See all the boats?"

Up ahead, the river, which now was on our right, was full of flat wooden boats. "Are they for transporting the wine?" I asked.

"They were, a long time ago," Adrian said. "Now the wine goes on trucks, and these cute boats are just for tourists. Kind of sad, really. But there's still plenty of port around here. Let's go raid the cellars."

Adrian led me to a large building that was down a small alley. We went through a doorway, a sign above which advertised port wine tastings, then down hallways lined with enormous wooden casks, presumably full of port. There was a sweet, damp smell to the air that was actually sort of nice.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked as we walked.

"I told you. We're going to raid their cellars. Here we are, we're getting to the retail section."

We came up a ramp to an area that was looked to be a sort of combination cafe and gift shop. There were several small round tables with chairs and there was an area with a cash register and a selection of bottles of wine on shelves.

"Did we have to go through this trouble?" I asked lightly as Adrian brought us over to the shelves. "We could have just made some appear, poof. Like we usually do."

"No, we're really going to get them from the source," Adrian said, looking through the bottles. "Things are always more real in these dreams when you're involved. Here – these ones. Will you take this one, please?" He handed me a bottle and picked up a few himself.

"Ok," I said, wondering if somewhere in Porto, bottles of port wine were disappearing in front of people's eyes. "What now?"

Adrian grinned. "Let's go for a picnic on one of the boats!"

"Oh, we should," I said. "You love boats."

He stopped short when I said that, and for a split-second, I thought he was angry at me or something, or that maybe it was the spirit darkness coming back. But he gave me a sly smile, putting his bottles of wine down on the counter, then taking mine from me and putting it down as well. "Yes," he said. He rested his hands on my shoulders and looked right in my eyes. "It's _boats_ that I love." The sly smile faded, replaced by a look so intense, I thought he was trying to see through me. "I feel so proud and lucky that I have _boats_ in my life. Every day I wake up and think, 'Wow. If I can see _boats_ today, if I can have some time with _boats_, it'll be a good day.' Because I really, really, really love _boats_." There still wasn't the slightest trace of laughter in his expression, and I felt sort of stunned.

I stammered, "Wow. Um." What else could I say? In some ways, that was the most amazingly passionate declaration of love I'd ever heard. On the other hand, it was about boats. _No it wasn't,_ said the Traitor, sounding exasperated, then added: _You idiot_. "Ok, not the time," I told it, in my head. Out loud, I repeated my brilliant, "Um. Wow."

"What? I'm just talking about _boats_." He gave me a brilliant smile and winked. "Let's go find a good one and go for a nice ride."

We picked up our port wine and walked outside, blinking a little in the bright sunlight. There were dozens of small boats docked all up and down this small stretch of the river, and as we got closer I was able to get a closer look at them. They were about twice as long, and four or five times as wide, as a gondola. They were mostly flat on top, but had cute curved front prows, like the tip of an elf's shoe.

"Oh!" I said, and jumped a little in surprise. "There's someone on that boat, riding on the prow." I pointed.

Adrian laughed. "Come on, Sage, that's not _someone_. That's the Sandeman guy again. He's just a statue or a dummy or something. The company is really pimping the heck out of their logo, isn't it?" I looked again. Yeah, it was the Sandeman guy, wrapped in his big black coat and leaning over his glass of port. He was apparently glued or nailed into place so that even the waves wouldn't knock him off the boat. "We should take _that_ boat," Adrian said. "The Sandeman boat. It's too funny."

"Alright," I agreed. We went over to the dock and stepped on board. Adrian wanted me to start the boat up, but I was afraid to. When I did things in dreams, they had a weird way of turning real, and I didn't want to take the risk of boats going off their own in the real Douro river. So instead, I let Adrian do it. He stood inside the small covered at the front of the boat and waved his hand at the steering wheel and engine mount. The boat started up right away. He steered us out of the dock, then set the boat on auto-steer, a feature I felt pretty sure didn't actually come standard on a boat like this. Or any boat, really.

"So," said Adrian, walking us to the back of the boat."Let me be tour guide. Ummm... Ok. These boats, I forget what they're called, but they were for transporting the port wine from where they make it, which is inland, out here to Porto, so that rich English people can buy it."

"I see," I said.

As he spoke, he was conjuring up a picnic table with a shady parasol over it. "And like I said, now they use trucks instead, but people still like the boats, so they keep them around," he said, changing the color on the parasol a few times, and studying the effect. He finally decided on green. "Oh! And, Sage, this part I'm good at, 'cause I went to the port wine tour every day when I was here, assuming I woke up on time for the last tour." He grinned at me. "They give you lots of port at the end of the tour," he said. "Sometimes I'd go on several tours a day, at each of the different companies."

"Naturally," I said.

"And then, after going on the tour so many times, I actually learned how they make port! Do _you_ know how they make port?"

"I know the basic chemistry of fermentation," I said. "but I didn't study alcoholic production growing up."

"Can't understand why not," Adrian said, pleasantly, sitting down at the table, which now had a cushioned bench along one side. I joined him. "It's terribly useful. Ok, so normally, the fermentation process involves a lot of the sugar turning into alcohol, right?" he said.

He kept on talking, but I sort of tuned out what he was saying. It was something about how port wine makers added more sugar, which kept the port extra alcoholic, but also extra strong. As he continued talking, I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, his jaw, his neck. And then... well, I sort of didn't stop.

"Hey!" he said.

"Go on," I said. "I'm fascinated." I actually was sort of interested, especially when he got to the part about the chemical reactions involved in creating the wine, but he was so cute, being informative for once, and I just couldn't resist him. Plus, this was a rare opportunity to get him back for all the times he'd done this to me. After a bit, he gave up, and we collapsed for a while on the bench.

"Ok, ok," he said, when we pulled ourselves away from each other. "Picnic time."

He stood up and busily set up the table with a full spread: the bottles of port, several glasses, and some plates with little bits of sausage, sliced cheese, and crackers. "We're going to do a port tasting," he said. "It's very cultural. So you can't object."

"I wouldn't dream of objecting," I said.

"Alright. We're only going to taste two kinds, though, because why waste time? One lower-quality kind, and one really good kind. Here's a golden port, for my golden-eyed girl." He opened the tiny bottle and poured a small amount of a thick golden-colored liquid into two small short-stemmed glasses, and held one out to me. "Taste this," he said, and I did. It tasted so sweet, I was surprised. I had never really liked wine, but this was good."This tastes kind of like raisins," I said. "But in a good way."

"This is the cheap stuff," Adrian said, "but I quite like it. It's nothing on the good stuff, but it's got its own charm. They call it Lagrimas de Cristo."

"Does that mean 'the tears of Christ'?" I asked.

"That's what it means, apparently. I didn't know you spoke Portuguese."

"I don't, but I do read Latin and speak French and Spanish. They're all quite similar." I took another sip of the orangey-yellow wine. Wow, it was good. You couldn't exactly guzzle it or anything, but I did want to keep sipping it.

"I bet you could learn Portuguese quickly if you needed to, huh?" Adrian said.

"Languages have long been a strong point for me," I said. "But I don't see much need to learn Portuguese. It's spoken in very few parts of the world, and where it's spoken, Spanish is generally spoken as well."

"Well, what if we wanted to go to Porto for real?" Adrian asked. "Portuguese could be useful."

"I'd like to really go here sometime," I said. "I don't know when that could happen." I suddenly noticed that Adrian had used the word 'we.' Was he planning on really hopping on a plane with me?

"You'll want to be here even more after you taste this," Adrian said, pouring some port from one of the larger bottles into a new glass for me. It was a rich brown color, almost the color of cola, and when I sniffed it, it smelled like cinnamon and honey, with a sort of raisin-scent underneath. "This is the 40-year-old stuff," Adrian said. "I grabbed two bottles of it because, well... Taste it." He was watching me closely. I took a sip, and wow, it tasted even better than it smelled. I had thought the _Lagrimas_ was good, but this was out of this world. I rolled it around in my mouth, and the taste kept changing, from honey to vanilla to orange blossom. I swallowed it and the taste _kept_ changing in my mouth, cinnamon and chocolate and hazelnut. It was like every good flavor in one sip. "Holy heaven," I muttered.

"It's crazy, right?" Adrian said. "It's like some sort of Willy Wonka bullshit. It keeps tasting different, and it always seems to taste like whatever you like best."

I took another sip, delighting in the tastes. "I don't know who Willy Wonka is," I said. "But if he makes port, I like him."

"He's a friend of Sandemon's," said Adrian, and gestured to our friend on the prow.

"I can't believe I like port," I said, after another few sips.

"Well, I'd say that you can thank me now, but maybe you won't thank me when you find out that I've just given you a taste for something incredibly expensive. This stuff costs easily 150 bucks a bottle." I almost spat out my mouthful, but it was way too good to spit out. Adrian laughed at the look on my face. "So here's one more reason to love a spirit dream: we can indulge our finer tastes."

We sipped at the port, occasionally having a bit of sausage or cheese, as we sailed up the river. Adrian conjured up a comfy couch we sat down in it, watching the scenery, his arm around me. The umbrella moved over to shade us over here as well.

The view of the river bank from the boat was fascinating. Many of the buildings we could see looked to be in an advanced state of decay. Some were just stony foundations, while others still displayed bits of roof and siding. Many of them were covered in purple trumpet flowers, and I was amazed. "It's nature, triumphing over the works of man," I said.

"And making it better," said Adrian.

One valiant little house got my attention, and I pointed it out to Adrian. The house – or what was left of it – stood on a slight promontory, and I could imagine a time in which it would have been the pride and joy of its inhabitants, who would have awoken every morning to look down on the shining river below them. But now most of the interior had decayed, and a huge tree grew from inside, bursting through the roof. The boughs of the tree almost looked like they were creating a new roof for the building.

"I wish I could live there," I said. "Tree and all. It's so cute."

"We could just sleep in a hammock or something," agreed Adrian. "And wake up looking down on the water."

"Yeah," I said, dreamily. I was starting to feel all the port. "We'd water the tree to keep it healthy. And maybe plant tomatoes along one of the walls. And grapes. And maybe melons."

"I could get a job doing something dumb – like working as a waiter or something," said Adrian. "I'd get great tips because I'm so charming and handsome. And though you're gorgeous yourself, you could do something smart, like translate papers, or fix cars."

"You wouldn't need a dumb job either," I said. "You'll be a famous painter. And we'll have a boat of our own, and go sailing up and down the river."

The boat sailed past another derelict building. This was looked entirely made out of stone, and it was much larger than the little house. It looked elegant and sprawling, and I wanted to wander around its stony ruins.

"Look at that place," I said, pointing to it. "We could fix that place up too."

"We could open a nightclub," suggested Adrian. I understood why he had said that, since it looked like it had once been a restaurant or nightclub. There were many large outdoor terraces that looked down on the water, and I could imagine it covered with Christmas tree lights, and people standing outside holding glasses of champagne and dancing, the air coming from the river cooling them on a hot summer night.

"It wouldn't be stodgy," I said. "Everyone would be welcome." I took another sip of the port, and let the flavors dance on my tongue for a bit.

"Yes," said Adrian. "Moroi, both royal and non, and human. No Strigoi allowed, though. I mean, we have to have some standards."

"Right," I said. "We'd just hang a sign." I held up my hands as if hanging a sign to a wall. "It would say, 'No Strigoi Allowed, Sincerely, the Management.'" I wasn't drunk, exactly, since you can't drink port too quickly, but I had a warm, floaty feeling.

"Yes, that's only fair. Although they _would_ be allowed if they were nice, and just wanted to be restored. We would keep a few charmed silver stakes around, just in case. No charge for restoration." He thought about that. "Or maybe a small one. Two-drink minimum for any Strigoi who want to be restored. I think that's fair."

"Just be really specific about what kind of drink you mean," I said, and we started to laugh. I know it's weird that we were laughing about Strigoi, but... I don't know. For me at least, it sort of relieved some of the tension that I'd been carrying around since the attack months ago. The image of a bunch of Strigoi somehow lining up to meekly be restored to their original state made me smile, what can I say?

"Well, Strigoi or no," Adrian said. "It'd be nice. To have a club, to live in that crazy tree house, just... be here, together." He paused. "We could really do that, you know," he added, extremely casually. "You know. Live here."

"Maybe in five years," I said, laughing.

"Or five months," said Adrian. He pulled me back into a kiss that lasted for a long time. "Or five weeks," he murmured into my ear.

I felt myself melting. "Or maybe in five hours," I sighed.

Adrian grinned. "Not five hours," he said. "Porto has to be at least an eight or nine hour flight from LAX, and we can't count on a direct flight."

I pulled back. "Wait, are you serious?"

"Well, I'm not serious about the night club idea, exactly. And well, that tree-house does look a little bit damp. And of course, we probably couldn't leave tonight or anything. I guess we have to stick around and look after Jailbait for a little while longer. But… maybe someday, we _could_ go somewhere together. Porto's not a bad idea. There aren't a lot of Moroi in Porto, and that means there probably wouldn't be a lot of alchemist activity, either. Or Strigoi, for that matter. We could kind of just settle down. Get a little place. Get jobs. Maybe get... I don't know, just have a lovely little life together."

"That all sounds really nice, Adrian," I said, trying to remember to keep breathing. "But... let's be realistic."

"I am being realistic. I talked about getting jobs and stuff – isn't that being realistic? If I weren't realistic, I would keep on about the nightclub idea. Although I'm not convinced that that's actually a bad idea..."

"Adrian, don't joke," I said. "Listen, I can't just leave with you. We're not... It's not in the cards for us to be together like that."

"Wait," he said, sitting up straighter. "You mean, it's not in the cards for us to go somewhere together? Or that it's not right for us to be together, period?"

"You _know_," I said, miserably. "You know how it is for us."

"This is what I know," he said. "There are only two possibilities." He held up one finger. "One: We keep seeing each other. Or two," and he held up a second finger, "we break up. I don't know what you think about that, but that second option sounds really shitty to me."

"We can't keep seeing each other forever," I said.

"So you want to break up, then?" he asked. His face was hard to read.

"No! Of course not! … I just am a realist."

"What do you see happening then?" he asked.

"I don't know. I just sort of thought it'd take care of itself."

"Things don't take care of themselves," he said. "I sort of learned that from you, Sage."

"I just thought..." What _had_ I thought? "I guess I thought you'd dump me eventually."

He was quiet for a moment, then he asked, in a very soft voice, "Why would I dump you?"

"I don't know. I know I'm not... you know, fun. I don't get drunk. I mean, maybe I'm a little drunk right now, but..."

"You _are_ fun, drunk or not," he said. "I never had so much fun. And not the kind of fun where I'm sort of trying to look like I'm having lots of fun, and really, I sort of just want to go home and watch TV or something. Like, real fun."

"But I'm not one of those gorgeous skinny Moroi girls you're used to."

"If I wanted a Moroi girl, I could probably find one. But I'm happy where I am, with the gorgeous human in front of me." He paused. "And Sydney, I've got to ask you..."

"What?"

"Why do you think it's important that the Moroi girls are skinny? Do you think that you're _not_ skinny? Because you really are. In fact, if anything you're a little too skinny. I've told you that."

I stiffened. "I'm fine," I said. Who was he to question my body? I had it under control.

"Are you sure you're fine? I –"

"I said I'm fine. Thank you." I squeezed my eyes shut. "Can we like, not talk about these things? Because we're supposed to be having a nice day, not talking about things like... the future, or whether I'm skinny or fat, or things like that."

I felt Adrian took both my hands in his. "Sweetheart," he said, his voice serious. "You're not at all fat."

I opened my eyes to see those gorgeous green ones looking at me with so much concern that I had to look away.

"What is this 'sweetheart' business?" I said, because I couldn't think of what else to say. Why was he pretending that I wasn't fat? It was so obvious that I was. I had lost a few pounds since he and I had started dating, but it wasn't enough, and he had to know that.

"I don't know. It just came out," he said.

It was so cute that I threw my arms around his neck and hugged him tight. "Let's not fight," I said. "Come on, it's a beautiful day."

"It is," he agreed. "And I don't _want_ to fight. But someday we're going to have to talk about these things."

"Ok," I said. "Just... not today."

"When?" he asked.

"After the volleyball quarterfinals," I said. "Let me get through that."

"Ok," he said, after he'd thought about it. "That'll do."

I hugged him tightly. "I'm trying," I said, when I leaned back again. "I'm not good at this. And I'm not good at... not being good at something."

Adrian smiled and brushed the hair out of my face. "I've never really been good at this, either," he said. "I'm figuring it out as we go along, too."

"You had girlfriends before," I said.

"But not like this," he said. "Not even... you know. Rose."

"Oh," I said, and we were quiet for a while, sailing down the river. Then we both looked up and saw that the sky had turned pink. Adrian gestured up to the front of the boat. There was a door standing in the little covered area by the steering wheel, not far from our friend Sandeman. Adrian picked up an unopened bottle of port, and taking my hand with his free one, pulled me gently toward the door. I was glad to be going to Adrian's room, but in some ways I was sad to leave Porto, which made no sense. _Nothing you do makes sense,_ muttered the Traitor. "God, will you _ever_ shut up?" I asked it.

We stepped through the door, and Adrian closed it behind us. He put the bottle down on his beside table. "Wouldn't it be great if this were here in the morning?" he said. "Now _that_ would be a trick." I didn't know what to say. I wondered if it would be. I didn't _always_ wake up with dream-residue, and in fact, some of the time when I'd sort of hoped to be able to keep things, I'd woken up without them. There didn't seem to be rhyme or reason to when it happened and when it didn't.

Adrian sat down on his bed and started taking off his shoes. I put the idea of weird dream magic firmly from my mind and began rooting through Adrian's dresser drawers.

"What are you doing?" he asked. He was pulling off his jeans as he spoke.

"I'm looking for something to wear." I pulled out one of Adrian's t-shirts, one of his favorites, and then closed the dresser drawer. The shirt was a light heather gray, and had been washed so many times that it was soft and worn through in spots. I held it up to Adrian and he eyed it with amusement. I turned my back on him and quickly changed, then kicked my jeans off. They were fitting more loosely these days, thank god. The shirt was long enough to come down to my mid-thigh. I felt Adrian's eyes on me the whole time, but, well, he had seen me in just my bra before, so it couldn't be that exciting for him, right?

Wrong. When I turned around, he was already right there. He could move so fast sometimes! He picked me up and spun me around, my arms around his neck, my legs flying. I found myself giggling like a little kid.

Then he put me down on the bed, gently, and crawled up on top of me. "I like the shirt," he said in my ear. "It looks better on you than it does on me." He was in only his boxers by now, and the feel of his bare skin against me was intoxicating. I was a little dizzy from the spinning, and I was soon even dizzier from the kiss he gave me. As his mouth trailed down to my neck, one of his hands moved up my thigh, under the shirt, up to my waist. He ran one finger just under the waistline of my underwear, going no further, thought the suggestion was clear. I made a little moaning sound, trying to communicate that he shouldn't go any further. He leaned back a little and lay on one elbow, looking me in the eye, then brought his hand back down to my thigh, brushing the front of my underwear very gently as he did. I gasped – he had brushed across a sensitive spot. A _really_ sensitive spot. Something about the look in his eyes told me that it hadn't been an accident.

I pulled him back on top of me, kissing him intensely. He leaned his head back to take a deep breath and I attacked his neck, loving the salty taste of his skin, the faint traces of his cologne. I found myself biting him, very gently at first, then a little bit harder as I began to lose control. I didn't break skin, not even close, but I pulled back, afraid I'd hurt him.

"Sydney," he half-whispered, half-groaned. "Why'd you stop?"

"I didn't hurt you, did I?"

"No, no, it felt amazing." He took a deep breath, then looked me in the eye. "Listen, do you trust me?"

"Yes," I said, without hesitation. _You trust him with your life_, whispered the Traitor, and I shushed it.

"Let me do to you what you were doing to me," he whispered. "I won't use my fangs, I promise. Then you'll know how good it felt."

"Ok," I said quickly, before I could second-guess myself.

He kissed me on the lips, then trailed kisses down, past my ears to my neck. His tongue traced a small circle, and then I felt his front teeth close very gently on my neck, drawing it slightly into his mouth. It didn't hurt, but it was so intense that I sucked in my breath and dug my fingers into his back. He did it again, and again, kissing and gently biting my neck, up and down. He was careful not to let his fangs scratch me. I clutched at him more tightly, moving my hips against him, feeling that feeling again, knowing that I was pressing against him in a sensitive area too. We had never gotten this intense, ever, not even in those Thursday make-out sessions. I actually heard myself make a strange, high pitched noise like an animal. He pulled away slightly and I opened my eyes. "Why'd you stop?" I stammered.

He kissed me gently on the cheek. "I had to stop while I still could." He gave a mock-growl and squeezed me as tight as he could, almost squeezing the air out of me. Then he rolled off of me, onto his back. "I'm going to go crazy if we keep this up," he said, and propped himself on one elbow, looking at me. I did the same, and he reached out to trace a line up and down my arm with one finger. "That was... wow. Sydney." He gave me a goofy grin, then his face turned more serious again. "Thanks for trusting me," he added. "It means a lot."

It did mean a lot, I realized. In the two and a half months or so we'd been together, the chemistry hadn't diminished a bit, like I had heard happened with couples. It had actually grown, and more importantly, the trust, the closeness, had grown even more.

We both were still breathing heavily, and I was fighting the urge to just pull him into another kiss, to start it all up again. I knew I couldn't, but I wanted to. I wanted him to run his hand up my thigh again – I wouldn't stop him this time. I wanted him to say what he had been about to say at the cloisters – I wouldn't stop him from doing that this time, either. I felt so full of... something, I could almost burst. I felt like a water balloon of emotion. _Go on,_ whispered the Traitor. The voice actually sounded kind of nice, for once. Encouraging. _Tell him. Open your mouth and let the words out._ "Maybe I will," I thought back at myself.

"Um, Adrian?" I said, very softly.

"Hmm?" he said.

"I just wanted to say thank you for taking me to Porto."

"You are very welcome, my golden-eyed girl," he said.

"And um, I wanted to tell you that I also, sort of, um. I sort of love boats, too."

Adrian took a deep breath. Then he said, "Sort of?" He sounded wary.

"Not sort of. Um. I love boats."

"Do you really?" he asked. The sound of his voice, like always, soothed me. It was like honey dripping slowly down a spoon.

"Really," I said. "I always feel so free and happy, when I'm around boats."

"Of course," he said. "That's what boats are for."

"And when I'm around boats, I feel like anything is possible."

"So, you really like boats, then." Adrian smiled at me. "That's good to know."

"You know what I mean," I said.

"Hmm," he said. "I might."

"Then I guess we should go to sleep," I said, not sure what else to say. I felt a low ache deep in my body, the remnant of desire, and I was pretty sure he must feel that too, maybe even worse. I wanted to say something about it, but I didn't know what to say. So I just kissed him very gently, reaching automatically into his mind to adjust away some of the lingering spirit darkness. He didn't seem to notice, but he hardly ever reacted when I did this for him.

"I guess we should," he agreed, and stroked the hair away from my face. "I'll miss you when I wake up," he added. We cuddled up close, and he whispered in my ear: "I am sure that boats really appreciate how you feel about them. I'm sure that boats know that you are doing your best. And boats... really love it when you ride on them." I pretended to hit him in the arm, and then he squeezed me tighter. "Goodnight, Sydney," he said.

"Goodnight," I said. I lay there, my mind spinning a little. I couldn't believe what I had told him. But I just couldn't have kept it in, even for one more moment. I felt better, having spoken.

I got into my normal spot, leaning my face on the bare skin of his chest, one of my legs wrapped around his waist. Despite the ache, despite the little fight before, despite the general impossibility of the situation, I didn't want to be anywhere else on earth right now. This was where I liked best: in Adrian's room, in Adrian's bed, in Adrian's arms, with nothing but the sound of his heart and the far-off sound of his ocean-noise generator. "I don't want to fall asleep," I thought. "I want to stay here, please just let me stay here."

And then...

I heard my phone's alarm going off. It was morning and I was back in my bed at Amberwood. I still felt wrapped up in Adrian – I could almost feel the pressure of his arms around me, could smell his cologne. I luxuriated in the memory, the affection, the feeling of warmth, the softness of his t-shirt...Wait, what?

I sat up with a start and looked down at myself. I was wearing Adrian's t-shirt – the one I had put on in the dream.

"Oh, no," I said aloud, then clapped my hand over my mouth. It was all going to come out now, I realized. The tank top I had worn to bed was lying on the floor. There was no sign of the bottle of port, thank God. Still, Adrian was going to notice that his shirt was gone. There was no way I could hide the situation from him any more.

_You're hiding enough from him as it is_, the Traitor pointed out. And I couldn't deny that the voice was right, since it was my own voice. It was my own voice in my own head, speaking the truth, and I knew it was long past time that I listened.

_Updated September 8, 2012. _


	11. I: Surprise, Surprise, Surprise

**Book I: The Forest and the Door**

**Chapter 10: Surprise, Surprise, Surprise**

It was difficult to summon the will-power to take off Adrian's shirt. It smelled like him – like his cologne, his skin. But I couldn't exactly wear his shirt to self-defense, so I changed into sweats. I folded the t-shirt and put it under my pillow, thinking with a smile that I could wear it to bed tonight.

When I went to the bathrooms to brush my teeth and get ready, I noticed some faint marks on my neck when I looked in the mirror. "Oh, great," I muttered to myself. I had psychic hickeys. Just what I needed. I had a sudden mental image of myself trying to explain the marks as the unfortunate side-effect of a food allergy, or the result of a run in with a rogue vacuum cleaner. I knew that neither explanation was likely to fly with anyone smarter than a sea-sponge.

I went back to my room, trying to think of a quick fix before I saw Eddie and Jill. I didn't have anything in my alchemist kit that could help heal deep-seated bruises – particularly not psychic ones – but, luckily, I did have some really effective concealer that I used for my tattoo most days. I applied some to the marks on my neck and smiled at the result. You couldn't see them at all, thank heaven.

_It'd be kind of cool to just show them off, _the Traitor said, ruefully. _Say to people, 'oh yeah, my gorgeous boyfriend just can't keep his hands off me. That's kind of like, my life now? I know you're jealous.' _I smiled. Sometimes I actually kind of liked the Traitor.

I started to leave my room to head down for self-defense practice, but then turned back around and got Adrian's t-shirt from under my pillow and sniffed it again. It might have been weird, but there was no one around to watch me so I just wallowed in my cheesiness.

Thinking about Adrian's scent reminded me to spray some perfume on myself, hoping to hide Adrian's scent from Jill and Eddie. The last thing I needed was the two of them sensing Adrian on me. That would be harder to explain than the hickeys.

I left my dorm and went out to the spot near the oak tree where we all usually met up. When I got there, Jill and Eddie were already practicing. They waved at me and paused as I walked up. I was still a few yards away when Jill said, "That's a pretty perfume. What's it called?" I wondered if I had put too much on, then reminded myself that all Moroi have a really strong sense of smell.

"It's called Emerald Dream," I answered, as I reached them. "I just got it a few weeks ago. I liked the name, but I like the scent too. I think it smells sort of... well, green."

Jill giggled. "It does, actually. Like spring."

It turned out to be a fun practice. For one thing, neither Jill nor Eddie mentioned Adrian or his scent to me as we practiced take-downs and throws, so it was reasonable to assume that the perfume was overwhelming their noses. Further, I was starting to feel that both Jill and I were making major progress. I was able to defend myself much better with a stick by now, and was even able to disarm Eddie a few times. And Jill's magic was becoming more and more of a force for both offense and defense. This morning, she showed off a new technique she had developed: she tossed a glass-full of water into the air, then turned the water solid in mid-flight so that it took on the force of a rock. Eddie and I held up a towel we had pilfered from the gym locker rooms, and Jill's "water rock" actually went straight through it, leaving a big circular hole. We gave her a round of applause.

"That's fantastic," Eddie said. "If you can curl the water around a silver stake, I could see you possibly taking down Strigoi with that technique, someday." His smile was deeply affectionate. "You amaze me, Jill."

"I wouldn't be able to do any of this if it weren't for you," she said, blushing a little. I wondered if she was embarrassed in general, or if it was the praise from Eddie that was causing her to blush. Other people's love lives were cute, I decided. I almost wanted to tell them to just go and make out or something, but I knew it was hopeless. Eddie was locked into his guardian mode, and Jill was still seemingly pretty clueless. I guessed they would figure it out on their own at some point.

After practice, I went back to the dorms, falling back into my normal routine of showering, changing, breakfast, and class. It's not as if anyone stopped me in the hallways to ask me if anything weird and magical had happened overnight. I went to my morning classes on auto-pilot, doodling climbing vines and trumpet flowers all over my margins.

In fourth period math class, we were taking a pop quiz – well, I had finished mine already and was staring happily into space – when Julia, who sat to my left, poked me in the arm. I looked up. The teacher, Mr. Bernard, was engrossed in a sudoku puzzle and didn't seem to notice anything, so I looked at her and gave a sort of "what's up?" gesture.

She tossed a note on my desk. I opened it and saw the words "What's with the hickeys?" scrawled in her loopy handwriting. Mentally, I smacked myself in the forehead. I had forgotten to touch up my makeup after my shower. Despite my consternation, I kept my face blank.

"Not hickeys," I mouthed, and restrained the urge to use my hair to cover my neck. I knew that it would only encourage her.

Julia rolled her eyes. I doubted that she'd buy the food allergy line, and my mind raced with an explanation to give her later. Maybe I would just tell her that I had a human boyfriend. Well, I probably wouldn't actually say the phrase 'human boyfriend,' as that would suggest that there was an alternative to humanity out there.

I was still trying to think of an explanation when the intercom buzzed. Everyone stopped working to look up at the box on the wall, as if looking at it would help them listen. Maybe someday a psychologist will run a research study on that behavior to determine its origin.

"Mr. Bernard, can Sydney Melrose report to the main office please?" the tinny voice said from the intercom. "A family member is here to see her."

Mr. Bernard looked at me, concerned. "I hope it's nothing serious, Sydney," he said, kindly. "You're excused, of course."

"Thank you, sir," I said, and gathered my things to go.

"Why can Sydney get excused from class when the rest of us have to stay?" asked a girl from the back row.

"Because first, she has a valid excuse, and second, her average in this class is more than twice yours, Emma," replied Mr. Bernard.

"That's impossible," Emma said, after she took a moment to calculate. "That would make her average more than 100."

"Her average is more than 100," Mr. Bernard answered.

The rest of the class snickered. I wondered if this was one of those occasions in which my excellent scholastic record was making me a target for the other students, and then decided I really didn't care. I grabbed my bag and coat and went down to the front office, hoping that the family member waiting for me was my favorite "older brother."

Maryann, one of the office ladies, was contentedly munching on a piece of chocolate cake in a small Tupperware container when I got there. I could smell the cake from where I stood and it was making my mouth water.

"Oh, hi, Sydney," Maryann said, in a vague way. "That handsome older brother of yours is waiting for you outside."

"Adrian?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"Yes," Maryann said, smiling. Then she scrunched up her features as if trying to think clearly. "I hope he'll be ok."

"Thank you," I said, trying to act appropriately concerned.

"Tell him thanks again for the cake," she added, as I went out the door, and I sighed to myself. I wondered what Adrian was up to, and what the cake had to do with it all.

Adrian was sitting on a bench near the entrance of the school. He looked fantastic in one of his suits, a rich black one with a white shirt underneath, along with his usual emerald green tie. It reminded me a little of an Andes candy, and I just wanted to take a bite. He sprang up and gave me a hug, and I squeezed him back, trying to make the embrace look 'sisterly.' The truth was that I sort of wanted to knock him on the ground and tear all his clothes off, which was a distracting thought to have when you were talking in public to someone who was allegedly your brother.

I smiled and put the thoughts away. "I'm pretty surprised to see you here," I said, as I sat down with him on the bench.

"I'm a pretty surprising guy, what can I say?" Adrian said.

"Maryann says thanks for the cake," I said, letting the comment dangle like a question in front of him.

"I guess she liked it," Adrian said, grinning. "I have plenty more at home. You'll have to try some."

"What did you tell her about why you were here?" I asked.

"I said there was a break-in at my apartment and that I was very upset and wanted to be with my sister right now." He gave me a puppy-dog stare and I sighed.

"That's a pretty flimsy pretense," I said. "Why did she buy that?

"I'm just a very persuasive person," Adrian said. "Must be my good looks. And my good cake."

"Don't tell me you used compulsion on her," I said.

"Ok," he said. "I won't tell you." I shook my head in a show of dismay. "Hey," he said. "Aren't you going to ask how I got here?"

"Fine," I said. "How did you get here?"

"I took a bus!" he said, as if he were telling me that he had found a cure for the common cold. "It took a little while, but I really wanted some face time with you, in real life. Jill's feeding is tomorrow, and that's Thursday, so we'll miss our... private time."

"Yeah, I know," I said. I hated it when Jill's feedings fell on Thursdays. There was just no way I could justify going over to Adrian's twice in one day, so in case anyone was watching us, we had to skip our regular Thursday date. "Anything particular on your mind?" I asked, mentally bracing myself.

"Quite a bit, in fact. But maybe we should wait until– "

At that exact second, Ms. Terwiliger walked out the front door of the building. She saw us and began walking over. "Hello, Ms. Melbourne. And Mr. Melbourne, so good to see you again. How is college going?"

"Very well, Ma'am," he said. He knew that Ms. Terwiliger was the one who had pulled strings to get him into the art program, and we both were grateful to her for it. "I might have some paintings in an upcoming exhibition."

"Excellent. I'll have to buy one," she said. "I assume there'll be several paintings of Ms. Melbourne."

"Not in the exhibition," said Adrian. "But I did paint one or two of her, yes."

"You look nice in that suit," Ms. Terwiliger said, distractedly. "Of course, when I saw you yesterday, you weren't so overdressed. Did you dress up to impress your girlfriend here?" She gestured to me.

"She's my sister, Ma'am," he replied. "And I wasn't here yesterday." He gave me a look, and I shrugged.

"I could have sworn I saw you in my classroom yesterday," said Ms. Terwiliger, then smiled. "And really, she's your sister? How interesting." Ms. Terwiliger gave him a wide smile. "Well, that does explain you all having the same last name. What an interesting family you all have. Most of you aren't even the same race. Well, Ms. Melbourne, I hope I see you in class later. Or tomorrow. Whenever." She winked and wandered off in that vague way of hers.

"Um, what was _that_?" Adrian asked.

"That was Ms. Terwiliger," I said.

"I'm aware of _who_ she was, but... I mean, what did she mean by saying you're my girlfriend? And the 'not the same race' comment? And the whole 'when I saw you yesterday' thing? What _was_ all that?"

I just shrugged. I suspected that she may have seen Adrian visiting via dreams in our classroom yesterday, but I didn't want to freak him out. "She's not exactly your run-of-the-mill history teacher," I said. "I think she's a... well, a witch. She said something about a coven or something, and as good as told me that she knows that you and Jill are Moroi. I don't know. I made it pretty clear to her that I'm not interested in magic."

"What, did she try to get you to join her coven?"

"Kind of?" I said, unsure. "She said something about me being very powerful."

"You are very powerful," he said. "Just look at the effect you've had on me."

It was the kind of thing an average guy _might_ say to his average girlfriend. Or it could be him talking about how I was helping him with his spirit darkness. There was no way to know. The statement was vague enough that I could sort of ignore it, so I did. I just smiled.

"Well anyway," Adrian said, standing up and taking my hand to help me up too. "Like I was starting to say, let's talk about all this in private. Do you think you can drive your poor brother back over to his apartment and keep him company for a little while? I mean, the break-in has _really_ upset me."

"Yeah?" I asked. "What got stolen?"

"My _heart_," he said, with an air of tragedy. I hit him in the arm and he laughed.

"Alright, Mr. Melbourne," I said. "I'll drive you back." We started walking to the parking lot. "You already signed me out?" I asked.

"I signed you out for the next three hours," he said, with an evil grin. "And I know you can drive pretty fast. That leaves us with plenty of time."

My heart began pounding in my chest as we got into Latte. So much time alone with Adrian in his apartment! We didn't usually have that much time alone in real life. On Thursdays we barely scraped together an hour and a half. What if today he wanted to... go further? What if I wanted to, too? Considering the way I'd acted last night, I wasn't sure I could trust myself anymore.

We made the quick drive over to Adrian's place. He told me that he wanted to wait until we got there to discuss what was on his mind, so we just chatted about everyday things while I drove. We came to a red light and I looked over at him. He was telling me a story about something that had happened at painting class, but I was only half-listening. I looked at that gorgeous face, those amazing green eyes. I focused on those lips that I loved to kiss, but that I knew hid needle sharp fangs. It was strange to care so much for someone who still frightened me a little. He caught me looking and smiled at me, squeezing my right hand, which rested on the clutch, once before he went on with his story.

When we got to his apartment, Adrian paused for a moment at his door to lift up the corner of the welcome mat, revealing a bright silver key. "I put this here for you," he said. "In case you ever want to come in. Or, if you want, you can just keep it with you…."

"I can't," I said. "If I'm found with a key to your apartment in my possession, that would be pretty tough to explain."

"I know," he said, with a sigh. We stepped inside his front door and I closed it behind us. He paused where he was, looking at me. Usually at this point, I'd be sort of tackling him onto the couch or something, but I stayed motionless.

"Isn't there something you wanted to talk about with me?" I asked.

"Oh, yes, there is," he said. "Ok, but first, have a seat, let me get you a little something." I sat down on the couch, and he went over to the fridge. He came back over holding a Tupperware container and two forks. He sat down next to me, putting the Tupperware down on the coffee table in front of the couch. I could see that it contained chocolate cake that looked a lot like the kind Maryann had been eating back at the school office.

"I thought we could have a little pre-lunch dessert while we chatted," he said. I must have looked a little skeptical because he added, "Come on, try it! It's black forest! I made it in honor of _our_ forest. It's really good. "

"Wait, this is the cake you baked?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes," he said proudly. "Part of it, anyway. I baked it from scratch."

"From scratch?" I repeated, dumbfounded.

"That's what I said." Adrian held out a fork. "Come on," he said. "I washed this fork for you myself. You might as well use it."

I took the fork, and Adrian watched as I took a hesitant bite of the cake. And... it was good. Like, really, really good. I was beyond surprised at Adrian's baking skill. Obviously, the cake didn't fit into my diet, but I couldn't exactly refuse to eat it, not with Adrian watching me.

"What made you decide to start baking all of a sudden?" I asked him, as I took another bite. I took one more bite as he answered me.

"Welllll," he drawled. "Actually, I've been baking for a few days now. This is the first cake I got really right. I had to eat the first three all by myself. It was a hardship." He patted his stomach.

"You still haven't explained why," I pointed out.

He looked down at his shoes. "I got the idea in my head because…. we did a still life of a cake in class, and um…. then I was painting the cake, and then I wanted a cake. But the mixes were expensive, soooo... then, I um, looked up recipes online and it's much cheaper to bake from scratch. And now I have cake… and you can have some." He paused, then added, "Is that weird? Do you think I'm really weird now?"

"Yeah, because the weirdest thing about you is the baking." I took one more bite, promising myself it'd be my last.

"Maybe it is," he said. "I'm a pretty normal guy, really. Just your average broke trust-fund vampire who brings people back from the dead. You know. Normal. Anyway, what do you think?"

"It's delicious," I said. "I'm impressed, honestly, but I can't have much more. I had a really big breakfast, and I'm not hungry." I had had a banana and a small yogurt, and a coffee, of course. There was no coffee in the dining hall, but I kept some instant stuff in my room. It wasn't quite the same thing but I didn't have time to run out to the coffee place all the time. Anyway, I was generally fine on that breakfast until lunch, and this cake did not fit in the plan.

"Oh, who cares if you're hungry or not?" Adrian said, grinning engagingly. "There's always room for cake." He leaned a little closer to me. "Shall I feed you?" he asked. He picked up a little cake with his fingers.

"No!" I said, then added a smile. "Come on, Adrian."

"Fine," he said. I watched him put the cake in his own mouth and lick the frosting from his fingers. I absentmindedly licked the frosting off my fork, not able to look away from his eyes. There was a silence as we stared at each other. Then Adrian took the fork from my hand, put more cake on it, and handed it back to me. "Have some more," he said, his voice seductive. "You look so hot when you lick the frosting off the fork. Do it again."

I felt myself blush. "Adrian!" I said.

"I'm serious," he said, with a smile.

"This isn't the Let's-watch-Sydney-eat Show," I said.

"No?" he asked. "Well then, what time _is_ that show on? I'll set my Tivo." He picked up a bit of cake again with his fingers and leaned forward with it so that it was just an inch from my mouth. I rolled my eyes but opened my mouth. He placed the bit of cake on my tongue, and it really was sooooo good. I sort of sighed as I let it melt in my mouth. "Good?" Adrian asked.

"Delicious," I said.

"You have a bit of…" Adrian said, and leaned forward. He licked the side of my face, then sucked very gently at one corner of my lower lip. "There," he said. "Got it. You had a little frosting on y—" He couldn't finish the word because I had knocked him over on the couch. We kissed for a while, until suddenly Adrian pulled away. "Are these…" he said, looking at my neck. "Are there hickeys on your neck?"

I sighed. "Yes," I said.

"You um, haven't been seeing someone else, have you?"

"Nope," I said. "Those are your handiwork."

"Interesting, considering that I haven't seen you in person for days."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"

"Will you hold on a minute?" he asked, getting up. "I'll be right back." He went down the hallway to his room. While he was gone, I ate a few bites of cake, mostly to distract myself from the thought of running after him and knocking him over on the bed and… yeah. In a moment, he came back, holding something. He put it down on the table in front of us. It was the bottle of port that I had last seen on his bedside table in a dream. Of _course_.

"Can you explain this?" he asked. "I woke up to find it on my bedside table this morning. Not that I wasn't happy to see it, but still. So? _Can_ you explain it?"

"Actually," I said, "I can't."

"But you don't seem surprised," Adrian pointed out, gently.

"No," I admitted. "I'm not really surprised." I took one more bite of cake, for luck.

"And," Adrian said, "do you perhaps know the current whereabouts of my favorite gray shirt? I was thinking about wearing it today and do you know something, I couldn't find it anywhere."

"So you decided on a suit?"

"Well, if you can't be comfortable, you might as well look good. So, Sage? The shirt? Whereabouts?"

I sighed. "I might have woken up in it this morning."

"I see," Adrian said. "Is there anything else that you want to tell me about?"

I took another bite of cake to buy myself some time. I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten such good cake. Then I said, "Well. There were a few other things that I've woken up with that I didn't go to sleep with." I gave him a quick summary: the pine needle, the glitter, the napkin, on and on. I concluded with the story of the pencil.

"Why have you not told me about this?" Adrian asked, when I was done talking.

"I thought I could handle it myself."

"Didn't you think that maybe I'd want to know, though?"

"Yes, but..." I trailed off. I guess I _hadn't_ thought that he'd want to know. _I _didn't even want to know. "I didn't want to bother you," I went on, feeling lame. "This is my job. To deal with the unexplained."

Adrian took a deep breath. "Would you like my thoughts on this?" he asked.

"I guess," I said. I stuck a pinky into the frosting and licked it off. Adrian watched me, then shook his head as if to regain his focus.

"Ok. Here's the deal. I've never heard of people taking things back from spirit dreams, nor have I heard of people moving real objects from place to place using spirit dreams. But I'm not sure that what we do is always normal spirit dreaming. It's even more real with you than it ever had been before I met you." He shook his head as if mystified. "I think it's something you're doing, Sydney."

I knew he had to be right, but I still said, "I don't do magic."

"It doesn't have to be _magic_," he said. He took a bite of cake himself, and watching him eat it made me want more. He saw me looking, and nudged the Tupperware closer to me. "Maybe it's just an extra ability you have," he said. "And really, it's a good thing. I know that you've been doing something for me, for my spirit darkness. I don't always catch it, but I can feel it later, the lightness, the brightness you bring me. It's something you're doing, and we both know it."

I swallowed another bite of cake. "I'm not doing anything special. It's just dream logic."

"And the t-shirt? And the bottle of port? And the pencil?"

"It's some weird spirit side effect," I said. I brushed a crumb from the side of my mouth. "You haven't dream walked much with humans before, have you? So maybe it's just something that happens when your magic interacts with a human body."

"That's not _im_possible," he said. "But... don't you think you're a little more than human? What you alchemists do – that's not exactly everyday."

"But it's not magic," I said. "It's trkmwnolger."

"It's what?" Adrian asked.

"It's technology," I said, after I had swallowed the cake.

"Maybe what you're doing in dreams is technology too," Adrian countered.

"What _we're_ doing," I corrected.

"Ok," he said. "What _we're_ doing. All I know is that when _you_ do things in dreams, they... often feel more real. That's why I had you sort of pull the port into our dream last night. I knew that if you did it, it'd be the real thing, more or less. I didn't know I'd end up with a free bottle, but it is a nice bonus..."

"It must be because I'm human," I said. "I'm more of the earth than you are. So I keep us grounded." I giggled. "Grounded... to cake!"

Adrian grinned. "I'm glad you like the cake." Then he added, so quietly I almost couldn't hear him, "It's nice to see you eating."

"_Like_ is not the word," I said, after a pause. "This cake is amazing." I chose to ignore his second comment, as I didn't have a response to it.

"Well, eat all of it you want," he said. "I have more in the fridge." As I took another bite, Adrian said, "Maybe, if it's ok with you, I'll talk to Sonya about this dream stuff. She's really great at the whole spirit thing. She might have an idea of what's going on."

"I guess that would be ok," I said.

"Great. I'll 'call' her soon," he said, using air quotes. "And um," he added, "maybe we should stop going on spirit dream dates, until we know what's going on. Just a temporary hiatus, you know?"

I groaned. "I don't want to stop," I said.

"I don't either, Sage. But I think we should." He sighed. "We'll just... talk on the phone more. We could get Skype..." It was such a poor substitute that I groaned again. "And maybe you can come over for dinner sometime. Maybe the day after tomorrow, even. That'll be a Friday night. Tell the kids you've got some errands to run for your nutso history teacher, and come right back over here."

"I can't keep coming back over here! Someone will notice!"

"Well, maybe not all the time. But Friday it'll be fine. And soon I'm sure we'll figure out the dream thing soon and get back to normal, or whatever passes for normal with us. Oh, hey…. Speaking of your nutso history teacher. If she really is knowledgeable about magic, maybe she can help with the dream stuff. Do you think you could ask her about it?"

"I guess I could," I said. "I just don't want to drag her into it, if I don't have to. She knows too much as it is."

"I guess so, but if she already knows, then she probably will be cool with it. I don't know. I'm grasping at straws here."

"Well, ok, how about this," I said. "Ask Sonya, and if she doesn't know, I'll ask Ms. Terwilliger."

"That's a deal," said Adrian. He took my hand and brought it to his lips. Our eyes met and I felt one of those instant flashes of chemistry come over me. His eyes fell to my neck. "Sorry about the hickeys, by the way," he said. "I didn't know they'd carry over into real life or I wouldn't have been quite so careless." He kissed the inside of my wrist, right on my pulse.

"It felt good at the time," I said, feeling like I couldn't get quite enough air in my lungs all of a sudden.

Have you ever watched a cat, watching something that it wanted to pounce on? You can see the cat's whole body tensing, its ears flat, its butt wriggling a little, as it waits, completely in tune with just one thing: its prey. That's kind of how I felt. I wasn't sure if I was the cat or the prey but I didn't really care. I was waiting for the pounce.

Next thing I was consciously aware of, Adrian was on top of me and we had been kissing for at least a few minutes. His suit jacket lay on the floor, and his tie decorated one of the lamps. "Sydney," he whispered in my ear. "Let me get these for you." He ran a finger over the hickeys, and I understood: he wanted to heal them.

"Ok," I breathed. I didn't want to have to explain them to anyone else, and well, it was his fault I had them, sort of, right? He kissed me again, and the feeling of hot and cold rolled over me in waves for a moment. I clutched at his back. Then the feeling passed, and Adrian paused to examine my neck.

"Oh, good, it worked," he said. "That means I can just give you a few more now. Just don't let me forget to heal you up before you go." And he went for my neck with an intensity that should have scared me, considering the fact that he was, well, a vampire. But oh, did it feel good! His hands crept under my shirt, and I let it happen, surprised at the intensity of the feeling when his fingers moved under my bra. Our bodies moved together, and I found myself untucking his shirt so I could run my hands over his bare back. My shirt joined his suit jacket on the floor, and a moment later, my bra joined his tie. He looked me in the eye, then began to kiss his way down past my neck, past my collar bone, down to my breast. I gasped when his mouth found what it'd been looking for.

"Adrian," I gasped. "Oh my god…."

My mind began to race. We were going even further than last night. This was too good, this felt too good, this was dangerous….

Adrian looked up at me, saw my eyes wide, and came back up to kiss me, one hand on one of my breasts, his other caressing my face. His thumb stroked my lower lip and I pulled it into my mouth, biting it gently. We both paused, staring at each other, breathing hard. Then he leaned close to my ear.

"Would you maybe like to go to the bedroom?" he whispered.

It was happening. The thing I was afraid would happen, or hoped would happen, or something, I don't know. It was here, and now that it was, what would I do? It wasn't that I didn't believe in sex before marriage, exactly. I knew that for some people it was just recreational, or at least, a bit less than a life-long commitment thing. I didn't begrudge other people that. It was just that, with all of the religious tenants I'd been raised under, I couldn't help but take sex really seriously. I froze, conflicted.

When I didn't answer, Adrian smiled gently and kissed my cheek. "It's ok," he said. "We don't have to. It was just an idea. Maybe some other time."

Some other time? Could I actually do it? It wasn't forbidden, but was it a good idea? I knew that for me at least, having sex with someone would create a spiritual bond I might never be able to break. And considering how much I already cared about Adrian, I was sure that if we were to actually have sex, it would just make us even closer. I couldn't face the idea of getting even closer to Adrian like that, since it was inevitable that we would part. It was going to hurt like crazy as it was. I couldn't take the risk.

"I'm not sure," I said. "It's um, sort of a risk."

"It doesn't have to be…." he said. "I'd look after you. I could get condoms. I have some already, in fact."

"Not that kind of risk," I said. "Although, yeah, that's a risk too." I was suddenly acutely aware of my half-naked state, and grabbed my bra from the lamp and put it back on.

"I'm sorry," he said, and reached over to re-hook my bra for me. It was a sweet gesture, since I knew that he would probably rather be unhooking it. "I didn't mean to scare you. I just thought that… well, with how things have been going…."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry I'm so weird about this."

"You're not weird," he said. "Well, no weirder than anyone else I care about, myself included." He pulled me into a hug, and then we sort of snuggled up on the couch. His shirt was off, and I was just in my bra, so there was a lot of bare skin contact. My blood was still rushing in my veins.

"I guess the thing I keep thinking is, if you had a different girlfriend, you'd be having sex," I said in a little voice.

"I don't want a different girlfriend," he said. "I want you. Listen." He kissed my cheek. "I'm a big boy. I can take care of myself. Do, in fact. Sometimes twice a day."

"Oh my god, you didn't just say that!" I covered my face with my hands.

Adrian laughed. "I did," he said. "Deal with it. But seriously, you don't have to feel like this. I see it in you sometimes: you're so worried about everything. I'm completely serious when I say that we don't have to have sex yet. We have plenty of time." He squeezed me.

I wanted to say that we _didn't_ have plenty of time at all. I wanted to say that all we had was maybe another month or two before he'd be back at the Moroi court. After that, I was certain that our relationship would just taper off, no matter what Adrian said about wanting to stay together. Never mind the fact that I had never felt this way about any other person in my entire life. There'd be a huge distance between us geographically once he left, and it would match the huge distance of race and background that already lay between us. It was just too much stress for any relationship to bear, and I knew it.

But I couldn't say any of that to Adrian. How could I? How could you look someone in the face and say, "I can't have sex with you because I know we'll be breaking up in a few weeks"? He seemed to still think that he would stay devoted long-term, and I just didn't share his optimism.

I wondered what it would be like to try to date someone else. Probably someday I'd end up dating some normal human guy who would bring me flowers from the grocery store and kiss me awkwardly at a movie theater. With him, kissing would just be mashing lips, nothing like the electric connection it was with Adrian. And my human boyfriend and I would get married and hate each other, like my mom and dad did. And I'd miss Adrian every day of my life.

Suddenly, even staying near him was more than I could take. That feeling from the night before, when I had felt like I was about to burst, was dangerously close again. I had to go. I pulled out of the hug and stood up as if full of energy.

"I've stayed as long as I can. I have lots of studying to do." I reached for my shirt on the floor and put it back on.

"What? Sydney, you're leaving?" He stood up too.

"Yeah, I really have to. I'm sorry." I stepped back into my shoes and started looking around for my handbag.

"I've upset you, I guess." He searched my face.

"No, no, no, nothing like that, really," I said, giving him the best smile I could manage. "I just am really busy."

Adrian scrutinized me for another moment, then said, "Sydney, you heard what I said. If you stay, that doesn't mean that we're going to do anything you don't want to do. I give you my word, I won't even kiss you again, if you don't want me to. I just want to be around you, in real life. We could just watch TV if you want. We'll order a pizza. It's not a big deal."

"I know," I said. "You wouldn't make me do what I don't want to do." _Yeah_, muttered that familiar voice of reason in my head. _But he might encourage you to do what you _do _want to do_. "But I really should go," I said out loud, maybe a little too emphatically.

God, just the sight of the hallway that led to his bedroom was driving me nuts. I could see, in my mind's eye, the two of us, holding hands, walking back to his room, crawling together into that silky bed, as we had so many times in dreams, but never in real life. And then we'd... I shook my head to clear the vision. "That would be something we couldn't take back," I told myself firmly, but silently, in my head. "And it would just make it harder to say goodbye when the time comes."

"Well, then, let me give you some cake for the road," Adrian said, in a manner of forced cheerfulness. He went to the fridge and got out another Tupperware. I could see even from where I stood that it was full of more of that black forest cake. He held it out to me as if he were conferring knighthood or something with it. I wanted to say no, but I couldn't. I took it from him with a thank-you_. _

"And I started to ask you before..." Adrian added. "Do you want to come over for dinner on Friday?"

Oh, god, yes and no. "Um, that might work," I said, not sure what to do. Was I just going to have to avoid him, to prevent us from going further than we should? I didn't know if I could trust myself around him. I remembered suddenly what I had said that first night in the pine forest: "I want you. I want to kiss you again. More than I ever wanted anything else, my whole life." I had kissed him a thousand times since then, and I still wanted it just as much as before, if not more. Not just for the physicality of it, but because he was Adrian. My Adrian. But he couldn't be mine forever. Suddenly I felt miserable.

"Now you know I'm a good cook," he said, stepping close to me, "you'll have more incentive to come over and sample my delivery pizza." I was looking down at my feet, and he put his hand on my chin to tilt my face upwards so that our eyes me. "Sydney Sage," he said. "Is there anything on your mind? Please, whatever it is, tell me."

"I'm fine," I said. "Really."

"I can't help you unless you let me," he said.

"I don't need help," I said, and smiled to take away the slight sting of the words.

"Everyone needs help," he said. "At least sometimes." As if to emphasize that point, he put a gentle hand on my neck. I felt the rush of hot and cold, and realized that he had healed a hickey I hadn't even known I'd had. "I kind of like being the one who does the helping, for once. I like helping you. The only thing I was ever able to do to help... other girlfriends... was to buy them things." He smiled ruefully. "Maybe it's a good thing I got cut-off for a while, money-wise. It's forced me to get creative."

"You're wonderful," I said. "Really, you are." I stood on my tip-toes to kiss his cheek. "Don't worry about a thing. I have it all under control. But I have to go. I'll call you later, ok?"

"Ok," he said. We kissed goodbye, and even in that quick peck, I felt the chemical connection. I couldn't look too long at him or I would have lost my resolution. I almost ran to the stairway and down to where Latte was parked. I was still holding the Tupperware full of cake and I put it in the front seat, not sure what I could do with it.

After a few blocks, I stopped at a public garbage can, meaning to throw the cake away, Tupperware and all. Then it occurred to me that Adrian might want the container back, so I opened it to just dump the cake out. The second I smelled it, I couldn't throw the cake away. I just couldn't. I grabbed a bit with my bare fingers and ate it right there. It was so good, it took all my self-control to not eat the entire thing standing over the garbage can. I put it in the front seat and grabbed little bits of it out with my fingers the whole drive home. I finished it before I even got back.

Oddly, I didn't feel guilty about it, as I thought I would. Looking at the empty Tupperware on my desk, I thought, "The calories don't really count, since Adrian made the cake." That pronouncement didn't feel _quite_ right, but I decided to go with it. I went to lunch and had what I would usually have: some grilled chicken and vegetables, no sauce or bread, and more coffee. It was an extremely healthy meal, even if the portions were small, so I don't know why Eddie and Jill stared at my plate as if it were a weird choice.

As I dragged myself through my last few classes of the day, I tried to keep my spirits up. If I looked at it the right way, today had been a great development. Adrian knew about the dream stuff now, and he wasn't mad. He might even be able to help. Maybe everything would really be alright, just like he said it would be.

And as far as the sex thing went... Well, I could find a solution for that. I always found solutions for things, right? It was true that I didn't know how I could simultaneously keep Adrian close and keep him at arm's length, but impossible situations were kind of my forte.

I touched my hand to my cross and prayed for some sort of sign about what to do next.

As it turned out, maybe I should have been more specific.


	12. I: The Other Sydney

**Book 1: The Forest and the Door**

**Chapter 11: The Other Sydney**

I got through my day as usual and eventually I went back to my room to study. It had been a weird and exhausting day. I did as much homework as I could stand to do, then got ready to go to sleep. I put on Adrian's t-shirt, climbed into bed, picked up my phone and dialed the number from memory.

"Adrian Melbourne's good time hotline. How many I help you?" he said as he answered the phone.

"Hi, Adrian," I said.

"Hello, sweetheart. How was the rest of your day?"

"Non-eventful," I said. "Yours?"

"I missed you desperately after you left," he said.

"Me too," I said.

"Did you eat the cake?"

"Some of it," I said, looking over at the empty container on my desk. I had actually licked it clean.

"Good," he said. "If you come over on Friday, I can give you more. I'll bake you something fresh. I have a recipe I've been wanting to try. Angel food cake!"

I had an image of Adrian in a pink apron, baking a cake, flour streaking his face. Then the mental picture shifted, and _all _he was wearing was the pink apron. And then what if the apron came untied and... _Good God, girl_, I told myself._ Get a grip_. "I hope I can come over on Friday," I said.

"I hope so too," he said. "It sucks that we can't meet in dreams for a bit."

"We'll just have to solve the mystery as soon as possible. Or... maybe we could just go to the pine forest, or your room. No other new cities. What's the worst that'll happen? I'll find more pine needles in my hair? Doesn't seem like a big problem..."

"Still not a good idea," he said. "We should be careful. I don't want you getting hurt."

"I know," I said, a little sulkily.

"But anyway, would you like to maybe come over in person? And I mean right now... Maybe tie your sheets to the window-sill and sneak out of your room, then come and see me?"

"I can't, you know that."

"Well, if you change your mind, you're welcome anytime. The key is still under the mat for you, in case you ever need to get in to my place. You're the only one who knows it's there. And I'll plan something really nice, really relaxing, for Friday night. I'll give you a backrub, make you dinner... And maybe we can watch a movie or something after we eat. That's something normal people do, right? How late is your curfew?"

"Nine," I said.

"Hmm... Let's make it an early dinner then. We'll talk tomorrow." He sighed. "But I'd love to see you right now. If you could just come over and _stay_ over it'd be amazing. None of this running back and forth to Amberwood." He sighed. "Hey," he added, his voice turning seductive. "What are you wearing?"

"Your t-shirt," I said.

"Oh god," he said. "You drive me crazy in my t-shirt."

"Shut up, Adrian! Oh my gosh…"

He just laughed. "Maybe I'll paint you in that."

"Please don't! If anyone saw…."

"No, you misunderstand," he said. "I meant, I'd get you into that t-shirt, and then I would paint you. As in, cover you with paint. Oh, that'd be the best painting ever."

"Adrian!"

"What? Can't blame a guy for dreaming."

"It just sounds very messy," I said.

"Mmmm… I wouldn't mind. Then we could take a hot shower together. And I would scrub the paint off of you. I wouldn't mind if it took a little while. I'd be very, very, diligent about it."

The image of him and me naked in a shower together popped into my head. We'd be kissing, open mouthed, as the water came rushing down on our heads. Or he'd be on his knees, scrubbing the paint off of my legs, and... I took a sharp breath and let it go, along with the image. I swallowed heavily.

"At this rate, I'll never get to sleep," I said.

"Me either," he said. "Too bad. I plan to have some pretty amazing dreams tonight."

"I guess I probably will too."

"Ha! I knew you weren't made of stone, Sage!" He laughed. "Oh!" he added. "I meant to tell you: I got ahold of Sonya Karp a few hours ago. I told her about your pencil yesterday, and all the other things that have happened. She thought it was fascinating."

"Did you two talk in a spirit-dream?" I asked.

"Well, yeah," Adrian said. I guess he thought spirit dreams with _her_ were ok. Irrationally, I felt jealous. "Anyway, she's going to think about it. She has no clue right now what could be doing it, but she wanted to know if it was ok if she visited you, to kind of see how it was, and I said it would be fine. I mean, it is, right?"

"I guess, yeah. If it helps, sure." The idea of having a spirit dream with someone else seemed really wrong, but I didn't want to say that to him.

"In the meantime," he said, "I guess at least I'll see you tomorrow when Jill visits. Not that that's the same as going to Porto or something, but it's always nice to see you."

I agreed, and soon after that, we said our goodbyes and hung up. It was so... normal. To just say goodnight to him. To say goodnight to my boyfriend.

I pulled the blankets up and snuggled down, not sure if I could really fall asleep any time soon. I tossed and turned a little, wishing it were already tomorrow, wishing I could just be with him.

What was he doing right now? Was he asleep in that bed? Adrian's warm room, Adrian's silky bed, Adrian's strong arms.

Oh, Adrian's room, Adrian's bed, Adrian's arms...

Adrian.

I turned my head sharply. The sound of the ocean all around me. I was walking through Adrian's room, but it _wasn't_ Adrian's room. It was too big, and everything was indistinct somehow, as if I were looking at it through tissue paper. I tried to touch a chair in front of me, and it seemed insubstantial, like vapor. The view through the windows was foreign and blurry. And where was Adrian?

Then I saw him.

He was in his bed, and he wasn't alone.

I could see his naked back, and the bare silhouette of a girl's body underneath him, her arms around his neck, her legs wrapped around his waist. I couldn't see her face, but I could see his, see the way he was looking at her. And I could see the way their bodies were moving together. This was... Oh my God.

I felt staked through the heart. I wanted to stake him through the heart, too. And I wanted the stake to go _all the way through the girl_.

I tried to walk closer, but it was like walking through fine dry sand, almost impossible.

As I watched, Adrian lowered his mouth to the girl's neck and bit down. Hard. This was no gentle teasing bite. This was a vampire going for blood. As he bent down, the girl's face came into my line of vision, and I could see it for the first time. I saw her eyes flutter open, unseeing; saw her gasp in pain and then again in joy as his teeth clamped down on her neck. I saw her eyes close again as a huge, almost lurid smile crossed her face.

I _knew_ her face, even if the smile was foreign. Even from here, I could see the fragile golden lily tattoo on her cheek.

The other Sydney gave a low moan of pleasure as Adrian sucked hungrily at her throat. She was clutching at his back the way I had done so many times, apparently overcome with pleasure. I stood motionless, frozen, staring. They both disgusted me. How could she do this? How could he? He pulled away from her neck but they continued to move together, kissing and sighing and oh god oh god oh god why didn't they stop?

I let out a weird, strangled cry.

Adrian looked over and saw me. It took him a moment, but then he really saw me. He sat up, away from that other Sydney, moving slowly at first, covering himself with a sheet. The other Sydney faded. The room began to change, contracting and becoming more solid. Soon it had taken on the familiar contours of Adrian's real bedroom.

"Sydney," he said. "Oh, my god, Sydney."

I felt my face twist in disgust and rage. "What was that I saw?" I hissed.

"Oh, Sydney," he said again. "It was a dream, my dream. I don't know how you got there, but it was just a dream, nothing to worry about."

"This is a dream too," I said.

"But that was just my own stupid dream. This is our spirit dream, and we're together. Come over here, please, come on…" He held his arms out to me, his face pleading.

"But what was that I saw?" I repeated. My stomach was in turmoil. I thought I might actually throw up. Oh god, he was getting out of bed, oh god, he was coming toward me, dragging the sheet with him, he was getting closer, oh god, get away, please get away...

I took a few slow steps backward, keeping the distance between us.

"Just a dream, Sydney," he said again. "It was just my dream. A normal one." But he stopped advancing.

"That's what you dream of? You dream of sucking my blood while you… while we... in bed…"

"Sometimes, yes," he said, his voice gentle, as if I were a frightened animal. "When I'm lucky, I dream of you, and sometimes, I dream that we do dirty naughty things together. It's just dreams. Sometimes, I dream that I'm falling from the sky, or that a weird guy is trying to drape cheese slices on me, or that I'm late for my tenth grade geometry class. But, yes, on good nights, I dream of you. And tonight was a good night." He gave me a weak smile, but it faded quickly.

"So that's what you really want?" My voice sounded cold, not at all like my own voice, though still sort of familiar. "You really want to… You said you understood, you were ok with us not... You said you'd never bite me. You said you'd _never_." I had stepped so far back now that my back was against the wall.

"And it's true," he said. His voice was still so gentle. "I never would hurt you. It was just a dream. I would never bite you like that without your consent."

"But you _want_ to bite me," I said. "And you want to use your fangs." My voice still sounded harsh, strange. I recognized it suddenly: I sounded like my father – my father who hated vampires, who had warned me that they were monsters.

"Yes, I guess the truth is… that I do," said the male figure in front of me. He looked at me with those familiar green eyes. I hated those familiar green eyes.

"And you want to do that in bed, while we..." I trailed off. My father had been right. He was right about everything. I should have listened to him. He only criticized me to help me. To keep me safe from monsters and evil.

"It's a kind of related thing sometimes, Sydney. I mean, I can bite a feeder without feeling like that, and I can have sex without biting, but the two together... It's just a primal desire, but it isn't anything I can't control. Look, I don't want to scare you, sweetheart. Please. It's not that important. It was just a dream."

"It's so disgusting," I said. My stomach heaved again. "You're really… you're really a…."

"A vampire?" he suggested. "Of this, I was aware. Were you, Sydney?"

"I tried not to think about it," I said. My voice was oddly calm, though my stomach was boiling. "But you're a monster. You were just waiting the whole time. Last night, when you bit me like that, that was just... You were warming me up for it."

I turned around, facing the wall. I wanted to get out of there. Whenever he had opened a door to his bedroom from one of the other cities we'd been in, the door always opened at this spot in the wall in his room. I had never been able to summon up doors like he had, but I wanted that door now. I _needed_ it. I ran my fingers along the plaster, looking for an edge, a crack, something.

"Sage," the vampire said. I looked behind me to see that he was gently advancing. "Sydney. My sweetheart, my beautiful, fierce, golden-eyed girl, I wasn't warming you up for anything. Last night, it was just... making out. Let's talk about this. You know how I feel about you. It hasn't changed."

I faced the wall again, concentrated, and there it was: the door in the wall, the one that led to the pine forest. I pulled on the door as hard as I could.

"Sydney, sweetheart, please, don't go," said the vampire. "If you really want to go, I'll break the connection, and maybe we can talk on the phone when you're ready, but please don't run away, not like this, come on, talk to me…"

I gave the doorknob one more yank and the door opened. I ran through it, feeling an intense sensation of vertigo as I did. And then I was in my pine forest.

I looked behind me. The vampire was trying to follow me through the door. "You're not allowed here," I said, coldly, and slammed shut the door, but not before I saw his face crumple as if he were sad. Ha! I thought. Monsters don't feel sad. Why is he pretending? It's funny to see him try.

I was alone now among the sweet smelling pines, but it was difficult to maneuver. It was like the times I had gotten too far from Adr – the monster in a spirit dream. The world felt a little gluey. But I pressed on. I didn't need a monster to help me navigate in my own pine forest. I wasn't even going to think about him. One of these trees had to lead to my room, my real room. I was going to get out of this damned dream, or whatever it was that I had gotten myself into.

I crawled through the pine needles on my hands and knees. It was slow going, and since I was still wearing only Adr- the monster's t-shirt, my legs were bare. I scratched both my knees a little on the rough ground, until I found the tree that felt right. I got to my feet in front of it and closed my eyes a moment in concentration. The bark of ponderosa pines smells faintly of cinnamon, and I breathed in the scent. They are the most lovely of trees. And this tree, when I opened my eyes, had a doorknob in the middle of its trunk. I yanked with the last bit of energy that I had and a door opened. I could see, through the door, my room at Amberwood. I could see myself, asleep in my bed, curled up into a fetal position. There were tears on the cheeks of the other me.

"Stop crying, idiot," I whispered. Then I went through the door.

I woke up in my own bed. I was still in the monster's shirt. My knees were scratched and bleeding and my stomach was lurching.

I wiped the tears off my face, got out of bed, and pulled the poisoned t-shirt off my head. Nearly naked, I went to the window, opened it, and threw the t-shirt outside, into the darkness. Then I saw the empty Tupperware container on my desk and tossed it out the window as well. "The great Amberwood Defenestration," I muttered to myself, and closed the window.

I threw on a clean shirt, and then went to my alchemist kit to get my special wound preparation for my knees. This useful little bit of alchemist technology disinfects open surface wounds, soothes, pain, and improves healing time. I could heal myself. I didn't need a monster's help for this, or for anything else.

When I was almost done cleaning my knees, my phone rang. I didn't bother looking at the number to identify the caller. I just threw the phone across the room, and when it hit the wall, the battery fell out. I smiled. It was a dark smile, with no joy to it. Then I finished cleaning and bandaging my knees.

After I had put away my alchemist kit, I sat on the edge of my bed for a few minutes, and then stood up suddenly, my stomach lurching again. Desperately, I grabbed an empty plastic shopping bag from my desk and threw up into it. When I had finished, I felt a little better. I cleaned up in the bathroom, and stopped to examine myself in the mirror. There were little burst blood vessels under my eyes from the vomiting, and my eyes looked like deep, dark tunnels. It seemed fitting. I smiled again, that cold, dark smile. "What do you think of all of this?" I asked the Traitor, but she was silent.

I went back to my room and lay down in my bed, my eyes wide open and staring at the ceiling. I didn't move a muscle. There was nothing I wanted to do, maybe ever again. I didn't want to call Rose. She was an evil half-breed. I didn't want to practice with Eddie, another evil half-breed. I didn't want to help Jill fit in among humans. She was a princess of monsters. I didn't want to help Angeline get out of her latest problems. She was an evil half-breed and a pain-in-the-butt to boot. Most of all, I didn't want to do anything to, or with, or about, Adr- the monster. So, I just lay in a sort of comatose state, not moving, not thinking.

After a few hours, I got up, wanting some sort of purpose. I consulted the calender on my phone to count the remaining days until the end of the quarter. That was what I'd give it, I decided. A professional doesn't cut and run, but there are limits. I'd give it until the end of the quarter, and if whatever stupid reason the monsters had for keeping their monster princess here in Palm Spring hadn't resolved itself by then, I was out of here. I would put in a formal request for transfer and go elsewhere. The plan made the cold smile come back to my face. Good. It was good.

I'd never have to see Adrian again, I decided, and the smile faded. Oh well. Who needs to smile, anyway?

When the sun rose, I got up and did 30 pushups and 100 situps. Then I finished the math homework that had been assigned for the rest of the month, grateful that Mr. Bernard gave the assignments out ahead of time. It was as if he knew that sometimes, a girl just wanted to do a lot of math problems, one after the other.

When it was breakfast time, I was still feeling unable to face food, so I just went out for a cup of coffee, reasoning that with enough milk and sugar it was almost like a meal. When I came back to my dorm, I saw the t-shirt and Tupperware container sitting on the ground in the flower bed outside the building. Feeling slightly guilty, I retrieved the container from between two daffodils and pulled the shirt from the branch of a bush. Without meaning to, I brought the shirt to my face and breathed in that scent. The world stood still, then faded; I was with him, he was stroking my hair, he was saying that I was beautiful, he had that look in his amazing emerald eyes... I pulled the shirt away, then brought it right back to wipe away the tears that had appeared so suddenly and violently in my eyes. I got myself together again, almost immediately. _I am a professional, _I told myself sternly_. I don't cry about monsters. _

When I got back to my room, I put the Tupperware next to my alchemy kit for later analysis and stashed the t-shirt under the bed, in case I needed it for some reason. _What reason would that be?_ the Traitor asked, almost pleasantly. I told it to shut up.

I realized that it was the day I was supposed to take the monster princess to go bite a human in the neck and suck her blood. There was no way I was doing such a horrible task, not today, anyway. I put my phone back together and sent a text message to the male unholy mixed breed and told him that he should run the errand instead of me, because I wasn't feeling well. I told him to take a taxi, that I'd reimburse them. I promised myself that I would pull myself together by next Monday, when the monster princess would feed her unholy appetites again, but no way was I going to sit in a car with the two of them and be party to this blood sucking mission _today_. I especially wasn't going to take them to go see that other monster at his apartment. I wasn't going to go to his apartment, with his bedroom, his bed, his... fangs.

I got through the day, feeling like I was moving through an oddly slow-motion and frictionless environment. Every word I spoke seemed to be coming down a long tunnel. I still couldn't quite face food, so I made do with just coffee, resorting to instant I made in my room over a Bunson burner. Despite all this, though, I got my work done. Every homework assignment was in on time, and I participated in class as often as usual. "I do not lie down and die," I told myself. "I am not that kind of person. I am a _professional_."

When classes were over, I went back to my room, skipping dinner to make sure I'd avoid the monster princess and the half-breeds. In my room, I got out my alchemy kit and found the solution I had used on the pencil just two days ago. I applied the solution to the Tupperware container the monster had given me and dimmed the lights. It glowed green as... as... something green. Anything green. There are lots of green things, why should I think of one particular green thing, or even two?

So, it seemed that the vampire had charmed the cake in some way, which probably explained why I had eaten so much of it. I wondered what his plan had been. Maybe the sugar would have sweetened my blood or something. It was disgusting to think about, and my stomach lurched again. I managed to keep my coffee down, though, which was good, because I didn't feel like making more.

I cleaned up my kit and went back to my studies. I set a personal goal of finishing the rest of the history textbook tonight, which wasn't crazy, since there were only two more units. After a while, though, the near constant ringing of my phone started to really irritate me. I finally answered it.

"What was in the cake?" I said as I answered.

"Oh, thank god, Sydney," said the monster. "I thought you weren't ever going to answer the phone."

"What was in the cake?" I repeated.

"What?" he said. He sounded surprised. "Sweetheart, I didn't put anything weird in the cake."

"Don't lie, and don't call me sweetheart. I know there was something magic about the cake."

There was a pause, and then the vampire said, "Well, I did use a little compulsion to make it more... delicious. I just wanted to make sure you liked it."

"Why? Were you trying to make me fat so that no other guy would want me? Or would the sugar make my blood taste better to you? Or –"

"A little cake couldn't possibly make you fat. In fact, it'd be good for you. You're... so thin, Sydney." The vampire's voice mimicked concern. Ha!

"I told you not to lie," I said. "You've been lying to me for months now, so you can really stop."

"I'm not lying, Sydney. Please listen to me."

"Fine. So you wanted to sweeten my blood or something?"

"You know that I wouldn't bite you."

"Don't say things like 'you know that I wouldn't bite you.' I don't know anything like that."

"Well, you should," he said, sounding a little annoyed. "You've been dating me for almost three months."

"Yes," I said. "I've been dating a monster for three months. And now I'm not, anymore."

There was a silence. Then the monster said, "Please don't say that, Sydney."

"You don't get to tell me what to say or not to say. You're a monster. I only answered the phone to ask you what you had done to the cake."

There was another silence, then he said, "So I guess dinner tomorrow is off then, huh?"

"You guessed correctly," I said.

"I can't believe it. Are you breaking up with me over this?" Now, he actually sounded a little angry. "You come into a private dream, see something that really isn't all that bad or surprising..."

" 'Not all that bad'! How can you say that about what I saw?"

"...make a few assumptions about something I did to try to help you..."

"How could making me fat be helping me?"

"Because you're not fat, you..." There was a long pause. Then the monster said, "Oh my God, Sydney, what is wrong here? Why is this going so wrong? Please, this is all a massive misunderstanding. We've come too far. We shouldn't just... give up. We can't just break up over this."

"Yes, we can," I said. "We shouldn't even use that phrase though. We can't break up because we weren't dating. A person can't date a monster. So, it's more like... I'm erasing it. I'm erasing all of it. It never happened."

"You can't do that," said the monster, in a fake sad-monster voice. Oh boo-frickin'-hoo, monster. Cry me a river. "You can't erase it. It happened. We got close. You know we did."

"It was based on a lie. Fruit of the poison tree. I take it all back."

The vampire sighed. "It's so strange. I feel like all of a sudden you're a different person. Like... another Sydney. Not my Sydney."

"This is the real Sydney," I said. "The original. I shouldn't even be talking to you. I'm an alchemist, sworn to defend humanity from monsters. And you're a monster, nothing more, nothing less. I've been deluding myself."

"I guess I have been, too," he said. There was a long silence. "Wow. So. Just like that. No more us."

"There never was," I said. "It was just..." I paused.

"Just a dream?" the monster said, which was exactly what I had been thinking. God, even now, he was reading my mind. It was probably more of his evil magic.

"I'm going to hang up," I said.

"Then do it," he said, in an expressionless voice.

For some reason, I was loathe to actually hang up. I was enjoying this, yelling at him, calling him a monster. I wanted to do it all night. I wanted to call him a monster and tell him I hated him and just... never stop, never ever stop. The minute I hung up the phone was the minute that it was really over. The connection would be broken.

But then the image of him biting the other Sydney in the neck came back to me and it was easy to let go. I wanted to be away from the monster, even on the phone. I took the phone away from my ear and hit the button to end the call.

It was done. I tried to smile, but couldn't. Actually, I was feeling really sick again, all of a sudden. I had enough warning that I was able to get to the bathroom this time, and I threw up in one of the stalls. Hardly anything came out because I hadn't actually eaten anything all day, and after a few minutes the wave of nausea passed.

I came out of the stall to see a girl I didn't know too well standing by the sinks. I was pretty sure her name was Ashley, but it might have been Adriana or Amanda or... whatever. Who knows. Who cares? This was a job. I didn't need to be friends with these people.

"Sydney?" said the girl. "Are you ok? That was you throwing up, right? Do you need to go to the nurse? I'll walk you."

"No, it's ok," I said. "Thank you. I'm fine. It was just something I ate."

"I hope it wasn't from the caf," she said, shuddering a little.

"No, it was... from... one of those fast-food places. Anyway, I'm fine."

"Um, if you say so," she said. "I'm in my room if you need me, just knock on my door. Last one on the right."

"Thanks," I said. "But really, I have it under control."

I brushed my teeth and went back to my room. I read the book that had been assigned for English class, and for the heck of it, wrote a summary of it in Russian, just to flex those particular mental muscles. I went out for a jog to burn off some excess energy. I came back and did another 100 situps and then made an illustrated diagram of what the periodic table of elements would look like if there were no such things as neutrons. It was fun. I wondered if my chemistry teacher would get it, but it didn't seem likely. Finally, it seemed like I might as well go to bed.

As I lay down to sleep, I wondered if the monster was going to try to contact me in dreams. He almost certainly would, I realized. I decided that when he did, I would just sit down on the ground of wherever he took me, close my eyes, plug my ears and sing. I didn't have to hear a word he said. Eventually he'd have to give up and let me go. Thus prepared, I sank into bed. I was a little wired from all the coffee I'd had, but with so little sleep the night before, I was really tired, and soon fell asleep.

And I woke up… in my own bed. Alone. It was morning. I looked around my room in surprise. He hadn't tried anything.

There were tears on my cheeks – when did those get there?

_Are you sorry that he didn't try anything?_ whispered the Traitor. _Were you looking forward to covering your ears and singing, like an obnoxious child? Were you hoping he'd _force _you to listen? _

"No," I told myself firmly. "It's good he got the message and left me alone. He's a monster who wants to suck my blood. I shouldn't have to talk to him." That shut the voice up for a moment, I was pleased to note. So I said it again, out loud: "He's a monster who wants to suck my blood." I repeated it a few more times, making a little song out of it: "He only wants to suck my blood, he isn't up to any good."

_That doesn't even rhyme_, muttered the Traitor.


	13. I: The Excuses You Come Up With

**Chapter 12: The Excuses You Come Up With**

I got through the rest of Friday in that sort of weird fugue state. The monster hadn't called, hadn't tried to contact me in any way. I kept telling myself that this was a good thing.

On Saturday, I put my phone on silent because that evil half-breed Rose began calling me almost every hour. I didn't want to talk to her. She was the one who had talked me into getting together with the monster in the first place. In fact, if it weren't for her, I probably would never have met the horrible creature. To distract myself from the situation, I went out to the coffee shop where Trey worked and sipped coffee and studied all day. Trey saw me and brought me a muffin, saying, "It's on me, Sydney. We um, have extras. We would just throw them away, so you might as well have it." It was banana walnut and quite good, and as I finished it I tried not to think of the evil cake the monster had fed me.

On Sunday, I went to church in the morning, something I hadn't done in a long time. None of the congregations around Palm Springs were quite the same as the one that I had been raised under. But I had seen a certain small church a few times as I ran errands and thought that since I could use some guidance today I would drop by. The sermon was about love, and the pastor quoted The Song of Solomon. The woman sitting next to me offered me a tissue and I realized that my eyes had gotten teary again. I wiped away the tears, thinking, "Stop crying, idiot." When I left the church, I got out my phone in time to reject yet another call from that dhampir girl. Then I found myself dialing another number without quite thinking about it. It was the number I had been calling for months whenever I was feeling bad. I got seven digits in before I remembered that I wasn't going to call Adr- the monster anymore, and that he was, quite possibly, the reason that I was feeling like this in the first place.

When I got back to my room, I opened the door, ready to flop down on my bed and lie there staring at the ceiling for a while, maybe listening to some Krzysztof Penderecki music. But there was someone sitting at my desk, waiting for me. My muscles tensed at the sight of the monster princess.

"Hey, Sydney," she said. "I hope you don't mind but your door was open a little so I just pushed it and it opened so I came in and thought I'd sit and wait for you because I haven't seen you in a while and I was worried that if I came while you were here and knocked on the door you might pretend that you weren't really here. So I hope you aren't mad that I just came in."

She was talking even more quickly than usual, and the look on her face was so hopeful that something in me relented. She was so normal and so... well, _Jill_. It was hard to call someone a monster when you knew her real name. "It's ok," I found myself saying. "I've just been busy."

"Well, yeah, you're always busy, I mean, you're Sydney and stuff, but um, I thought that maybe you were mad at me and Eddie for something, because you're not talking to us, and Eddie thought I should just leave you alone for a while if that's what you wanted, but I thought that maybe you didn't even know that he and I miss you so I thought I'd come and tell you that we miss you, because otherwise you might think that we didn't. So. Now I told you."

I smiled my first genuine smile in two days. "Thanks," I said. I sat down on the bed so that I was facing the desk. "I guess maybe... I miss you too." The minute I said it, I knew how true it was.

"Really?" Her face lit up. "I know that it's always weird for you because of the whole thing of you being an alchemist and stuff and maybe it's weird for you to be friends with a Moroi and a dhampir and I guess it was weird for me at first too to be around humans but I just think you're a really good person and I'm glad that you're my 'sister' even if you're not really my 'sister' of course. So I thought that maybe I would cheer you up and so I snuck this out of the dining hall for you because I saw that you, um, never mind, but I know that this is your favorite." She pulled a bundle wrapped in napkins out of her bag and began unwrapping it. "I wrapped them in lettuce so the napkins wouldn't stick. I took them just now so they should be still cold or at least not too warm." She pulled a few large lettuce leaves away from the bundle and revealed some slices of honeydew melon. "These are your favorites, right? Not the orange ones, right? I remember because green is also your favorite color."

I was staring at the melon slices. "Green is my favorite color?" I said faintly.

"Oh, sure. The only two new shirts you bought in the past month have been green, and you bought that 'Emerald Dream' perfume, and see, your notebook is green and you have those green pens." She gestured to my desk. I hadn't even noticed how many of my office supplies were green, but she was right. "And that hair tie is green," she said, pointing to the pony-tail holder I had on. "And, oh, lots of things." She held out the melon. "So, do you want it? I hope so because it was sort of hard to smuggle it out for you. They don't like us to take out food, I don't know why. But I knew melon is your favorite and I didn't want you to miss it."

"You didn't want me to miss it," I repeated, slowly. All of a sudden, I found myself bursting into tears. It was the weirdest thing; one minute I was fine, and the next, I was just sobbing, these big heaving sobs. I was vaguely aware of Jill stammering something about how I didn't have to eat the melon, that she would eat it herself if I didn't want it, and how she thought green was a very nice color, her second favorite after purple. Then she suddenly got up and left the room. "Of course she left," I thought. "She must hate me for how I've been treating her for the last two days."

But a moment later she was back. "I ran and got this from the bathroom," she said, slightly out of breath. She held out a roll of toilet paper. "Um. In case you want to blow your nose." For some reason this just made me cry a little harder and she sat down awkwardly next to me on the bed. "I know that you sometimes don't like it when Eddie or I touch you because we're not human and stuff and you don't like that. But um, if you want a hug I'll hug you. If it helps."

_Oh, take the hug, you idiot, _counseled the Traitor, and I found myself taking the advice.

I turned to Jill and she squeezed me tight while I continued to cry for a little while. When my sobs had sort of quieted down, she said, "I don't know if you want to talk about it or anything but um, maybe it'll help if you know that, um, well maybe I shouldn't say it, but maybe you should know it, that Adrian's just as miserable."

I sat up and stared at her. "What did you say?"

"He's miserable. He has been sitting in his apartment listening to the same song on repeat for like, twelve hours. It's driving me crazy because now it's in my head too. He had a few cigarettes, too." She made a face. "I'm just glad he's not drinking. He wants to, but he isn't."

"I don't know why you'd bring him up," I said. Inside, I wondered at the fact that he wasn't drinking. But what did it matter if a monster wanted to pollute himself with alcohol? What did it matter if he didn't? As for the cigarette, he could smoke a whole farm's worth of tobacco for all I cared.

"Well, um, I mean..." Jill looked uncomfortable. "Isn't that why you're so sad? Because you and him broke up or something? I'm not really sure what happened but I caught a very clear thought from him about how he couldn't believe that you'd break up with him over 'this,' whatever 'this' is, I don't know, he didn't think it."

I couldn't speak. She had known about me and Adr- the monster? And now she was talking about my decision to return to a proper path as if it were a normal teenage breakup?

Met with my silence, Jill went on. "I'm sorry if it's weird for us to talk about it. That's why I never told you that I knew. I mean, I figured it out ages ago. I mean, um, psychic bond, hello?" She smiled a cute smile. "Adrian was trying really hard, but I still caught stray thoughts about you. Sometimes, they were very... um... specific." She blushed a little. "Most of the time they were just like... strong feelings. Not words, just feelings. Um, see..." She took a deep breath. "Eddie knew because we both smelled Adrian on you, and he, I mean, Eddie and I sort of talked about it, and he thought that we should try to make you two break up, but then I pointed out that Adrian hadn't been this happy the whole time we'd been bonded, and that actually even the whole time I'd known him I didn't think he'd been this happy, and that you seemed happy too and it seemed good for you, and how Adrian had quit smoking without even bragging about it, and I just thought that if you two were soooo happy that maybe it was ok about the whole thing about you not being a Moroi even if it's weird, because maybe love is just love and it's ok or something, so I told Eddie, um, that... we should just leave you alone." She had said most of that without breathing, and then she stopped to take another deep breath.

"So I hope you two figure it out because I liked it when you were happy, Sydney. You used to sort of hum to yourself in the car like you didn't even notice that Eddie and me were there and sometimes at dinner you'd sit there smiling and staring into space, and it was cute because you were happy and when I first met you, you mostly were just sort of medium all the time. Um. And I think happy is um, better than medium." She stared down at her hands.

I saw that she had put the melon on my desk, and I retrieved it and ate a slice rather than reply. It was still cool, and Jill's decision to wrap it in lettuce had been a smart move because it was still juicy. Jill was a sweet girl. How could I have called her monster princess, even in my own head? I turned to look at her and saw she was watching me eat the melon, a look of approval on her face. "It's very good," I told her. "Thanks."

"You're welcome," she said. "If I see any more, I'll steal it for you if you're not around."

"Thanks," I repeated, and then there was a long silence. Finally I said, "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But I can't talk about... him. He's not part of my life. I made a mistake, and now I've corrected it."

"Mistake?" Jill asked.

"Yes. Allowing myself to get close to him was a mistake. Now, I've fixed it. We'll both have to adjust to the change, but even he'll be happier in the long run when he starts to build acquaintances of his own kind." I took a deep breath. "Not that his happiness matters a whit to me."

"Wow," said Jill. When I heard the word, I remembered another voice, a deeper, beautiful one saying, "Wow. So. Just like that. No more us." I pushed the memory away.

Jill went on. "You really feel like that about him? I mean, I know that it must have been weird considering how you were raised and stuff but you two spent so much time together. I don't know how you guys found the time to hang out so much. You always smelled like him." She giggled. "It was so funny, the excuses you came up with. I just was polite about it most of the time, pretending not to notice."

I sighed. I would have been embarrassed if I weren't so completely emotionally fatigued. "Thanks for that," I said.

"Hey," she said, cheerfully. "You know what? We should go and do something to get your mind off of the whole thing, like, get manicures or something. I mean, that's the kind of thing sisters do, right? And I'm your sister, at least I'm your sister while we're here and you don't have your real sister here. So it's my job to cheer you up when you break up with... um... my brother." She made a face. "Ok, so that sounds weird. But anyway. We should do something fun."

"I'm not really a manicure person," I said. "But thanks for the offer."

"Or, we could do something else," she persisted. "You name it."

I had a sudden image of my pine forest. I wanted to go to my pine forest. Of course, I couldn't. But in its absence there had to be someplace else like that. "Can we go outside and sit by a tree or something?" I suggested.

"Oh!" she said. "There's this place called Palm Canyon that has a river in a gorge and there's these trees and it's supposed to be really pretty, maybe we could go there." She paused for a second, then continued headlong. "But Eddie would want to go and then we couldn't have girl-talk like I wanted to and also it gets hot and sunny and so maybe it's not the best idea."

I smiled again. "Maybe we could go some other time. Maybe on a really cloudy day, we could go early before it got too hot."

Jill smiled back. "That sounds nice," she said. "A hiking trip. But for now, we'll just go find a nice tree and sit outside or something."

"Is it too sunny out for you?" I asked as we began to walk to the door of my room.

"I'm ok if we mostly stay in the shade," she said as we left. I locked the door behind us. "There's this spot over near where we practice," she added. "It's nice over there. There's a big palm tree, and Eddie and I eat lunch there sometimes." She smiled. "I'm not sure why I like it so much."

I thought about telling her about the underground water source there that must be feeding the tree, but decided not to. "Let's go over and see it," I said.

We walked out together, and Jill babbled a little as we walked, telling me about how much Angeline was driving her crazy. "The sad thing is, I'm the only one who can even stand her at this point," she said. "Eddie told me he could strangle her with his bare hands."

I had trouble picturing calm, stable Eddie saying something like that. He must speak more freely around Jill than he did around me. I pictured the two of them gazing at each other, spilling their guts to each other, and then falling into a big kiss. I felt suddenly, and overwhelmingly, jealous. They could just go ahead and do that if they wanted. Yes, Eddie had his excuses, but they were just that: excuses. To my mind, he was just afraid to reach for what he wanted. It would be tough for them, but not impossible. When they finally figured out their feelings, they'd be free to stroll the Moroi court together, hand in hand. They might get some weird looks, but no one would shun them. And Eddie would never leave Jill. They were so well suited.

Of course, I reminded myself, it's not as if I wanted something like that for myself. I was fine. I had righted the wrong that the monster had done me. I had gone back to my former, pure state. Pure. Undiluted. Like a chemical substance that was in a beaker with no other substances mixing with it. All alone. In a glass beaker.

"...And so that's why Eddie ate by himself in West Dining Hall last night," Jill finished.

"Oh," I said, realizing I hadn't been paying attention for some time.

"Where did _you_ eat dinner last night?" she asked me. We had crossed most of the grass, and the sun was very bright. Up ahead was the shady area under the palm tree, and we sped up slightly, both of us wanting to get to the shade.

"Where did _I_ eat?" I repeated. "Um, I don't remember."

"Because I ate at East with Angeline, and Eddie was at West. And neither of us saw you."

"Oh," I said. "I remember now. I had a sandwich out at the coffee shop."

"Hmm," she said. "They have sandwiches?"

Did they? I had no idea. "Yeah, I think it was just a weekend thing."

"Oh," she said. "Ok, cool."

We sat down in the grass under the tree. Jill began talking about a bunch of light-hearted subjects – a tv show she watched on her computer, a funny song Micah had played for her, things like that. I forced myself to stay with her, mentally. Her company was soothing, somehow. I showed her how to make a strand of grass into a whistle, and she even managed to make a bit of sound come out. "We don't have a lot of grass in Detroit," she said.

After we got sick of the grass whistles, she pulled a nail file out of her bag and asked me if I'd let her file my nails. I looked down at them. They were all different lengths and sort of ragged looking. "Ok," I said. "I guess I've been too busy to take care of my nails."

"That can happen," Jill said. She took my hand and began to gently file the nail on my fingernails, starting with my thumb. A silence fell, and she took a deep breath. Finally she said, "Look, I don't want to, um, pry, or something, but um... What happened? Between you and Adrian?"

"I can't really talk about it," I said.

"I know, it's private," Jill said, still carefully filing. "It's just that... well, it's not totally private. I feel like someone broke up with _me_, almost. He's so miserable." She got a far off look, and I knew she was 'visiting' him. "He's switched songs now. Finally." She wrinkled her nose. "It's a good song, but he has it on repeat too. What did we do to deserve this?" She spoke the words as if she were kidding, but I knew that she really meant it.

"Nothing," I said. "I just found out that he wasn't who I thought he was."

"Really? One thing about Adrian is I always thought he was kind of 'what you see is what you get. No real surprises." She giggled. "And with Adrian, what you see is pretty nice."

Rose had mentioned Jill's old crush on Adr- the monster. I felt a stab of jealousy, again. That made no sense at all. If she wanted him, she could have him, right? _He doesn't think of her that way, don't worry,_ said a familiar voice in my head. _You don't have to kill her._

"Well, yeah," I said. "If you like that sort of thing. And he is pretty straight-forward. I guess. In some ways. But in other ways... I don't know."

"I guess you just got sick of how he's always joking, never serious." She carefully filed a corner off my pinky nail, then moved to my other hand.

"He's not _that_ flippant," I said. An image came into my mind of a pair of green eyes, looking at me with concern and affection. "He could be serious sometimes," I continued, quietly.

"Maybe you just couldn't take it that he's always so worried about how he looks," she said, her tone hard to read. "I mean, those perfect suits, those thin shirts that show off his body, stuff like that. He doesn't have much money anymore, but he manages to make his older clothes work for him. I mean, what is he, going for GQ Model of the Year?"

"That never bothered me," I said, wondering if she was joking or serious.

"Then what was it?" she asked, her tone neutral.

"He's just..."

Just a monster? If I said that out loud, it would be a lot like calling Jill a monster. So I said, "He's just very different from me."

"But you knew that already," she said. "I mean, I never saw two such opposites. But I thought – oh, wow, your ring finger is messed up – sorry. Anyway, I thought you sort of... balanced each other out. So why break up _now_? You're still the same people."

"Look, really, we didn't even really break up because we were never really together," I said.

"What? Yes you were!"

"No, I mean... it's fruit of the poison tree."

"I hear them say that on Law and Order but I have no idea what it means."

"It means that... Well, it's complicated, but what I mean by it right now is, if something grows out of something that isn't right, then, well, _it_ isn't right, either. So I didn't really know who he was, and I thought he was someone different, and so I wasn't really dating him. I was dating a dream."

"I guess I know what you sort of mean." Jill got out her handbag and began digging through it again as she talked. "You mean you feel like the whole thing was a great big lie and he was lying to you the whole time so you were just part of a con-game not a relationship. Right? And like you loved someone who didn't really exist because secretly he had a plan for you that would have been awful?" I realized she was talking about herself now, herself and Lee.

"Oh, Jill, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be talking about this stuff with you. What you went through with Lee was much worse."

"I'm fine," she said, pulling something triumphantly from her bag. "Voila! Look what I have!" She held up a bottle of sparkly nail polish. "I know you don't really like nail polish, but this is just clear, with some sparkles. It'll just make you look more civilized. And make you sparkle!"

Partially to pacify her and distract her from the Lee thing, I held out my hand for her to begin painting my nails. She opened the bottle and set to work.

"I'm sorry to compare your situation to me and Lee," she said. "It's just that I guess maybe I know how it feels to realize that someone's been lying to me in the most awful way. And I can't imagine Adrian doing something even a little like that."

I hadn't thought about Lee in a while. That awful night with the Strigoi. Holding hands with... I wouldn't think about it. Comparing the Strigoi to the Moroi always weakened my resolve because the Moroi seemed so harmless in comparison. But they both drank blood, which made them both monsters.

_Then isn't a monster painting your fingernails right now?_ asked the Traitor.

"At least Jill isn't a sex-crazed liar," I answered myself, internally. The Traitor rolled her eyes.

"Don't roll your eyes," Jill said. "I know you're mad at Adrian, but don't take it out on me."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I was... thinking of something else. And let's just talk about something else, ok? Thanks for doing this, really."

"No problem," she said, warily. "It always cheers me up to paint my fingernails so I thought you might like it too."

We were quiet for a moment. Then I found myself saying, "Anyway, it doesn't matter that it ended now, or whether it was ever on in the first place. He would have dumped me anyway."

"Adrian would have?" Jill asked.

"Yes."

"If you had been together, you mean." Jill looked dubious.

"Yes. Which we weren't. But if we were, he would have eventually gotten sick of me. So it's ok that it... isn't going now. He's looking for something different than me."

"I don't know," Jill said. "I don't think so. Once or twice I caught him thinking about introducing you to his mother, stuff like that. He used to picture himself..." She trailed off. "I guess I shouldn't tell you. It's private. But I don't think it was a like, casual sort of thing for him. I think he sort of, you know, wanted it to last. For a while. Or, like, longer maybe."

"Well, it doesn't matter. It never could. I'm human. He's not. So, end of story. It's not worth talking about."

"If you say so," Jill said. She squeezed her eyes shut suddenly. "He's just so miserable," she said.

"He'll be fine in a day or two," I said, my voice cold. "He'll go get drunk, buy a few more packs of cigarettes, pick up some girls, and forget all about me."

"The weird thing is," Jill said, refocusing on my fingers, "that he hasn't done most of those things. Well, ok, he did buy a pack of cigarettes, but he's had only two or three so far and then he put the pack in the freezer. There's this stubbornness to him at the moment. He is dead-set against being the old party-boy Adrian. So he's just lying there in a sort of comatose state, listening to songs on repeat."

Jill and I talked about other things after that, and after a while she and I went back to the dorm for dinner. Crossing the grass, I felt a little better than I had a few hours ago. Jill really was such a sweet, gentle person. We parted ways at the dorms, since we lived in different wings, but Jill asked me to please meet her for dinner in an hour. I couldn't say no, so I went back up to my room to rest for a bit before we ate.

I lay down on the bed, falling into my usual fugue. Unbidden, the image floated up to my mind of the monster lying in his own bed, staring up at the ceiling in much the same way. My mind made a split-screen style composite image of the two of us, each in our own beds, each staring at the ceiling, miserable. I shook my head slightly, trying to shake the picture. I wasn't miserable. I was fine. I was a smart, capable, professional person. With sparkly fingernails.

Dinner was about as aggravating as could be. For one thing, the main meal was pasta again. Eating pasta was like pouring fat directly into my thighs. I took a tiny serving, and lots of vegetables, and took some yogurt and fruit from the salad bar.

The second annoying thing was the presence of Angeline. She looked at my plate in amusement.

"Eating healthy?" she said.

"I try," I said.

"Trying to stay skinny for your boyfriend?" Her voice dripped with malice.

"Excuse me?"

"I know about you and Adrian," she said. "Ask me, he's wasting his time with a little blonde stick like you. I would show him a real good time. Wasn't his last girlfriend Rose Hathaway? He probably likes girls with a little more _oomph_." She wiggled a little as she spoke the word, as if imitating a belly dancer.

"None of this is your business," I said.

"I make guys like Adrian my business," she said.

"Please stop, Angeline," Jill pleaded. "They're broken up anyway."

I know Jill was trying to help, but I wanted to bash my head against the table. The way Angeline perked up her ears at this news – so wolflike again, ready to chase down any rabbit that caught her fancy – made me feel slightly ill. I wondered if I'd be losing tonight's dinner, and hoped that I wouldn't. I hated the little broken blood vessels under my eyes.

"Well, I'm one week from the end of my punishment," she said. "I'll be able to go out with you guys on your next visit. Since I'm supposed to be your guardian, Jill, I really should be accompanying you." She grinned that wolfish grin. "I'll have to examine Adrian and make sure that nothing about him is likely to be harming you through the bond." She licked her lips. "I might just have to do something to cheer him up, if he's too sad..."

"Ok," I said, standing up. "I think that I'm full. Jill, it was nice to see you. Angeline..." I trailed off. I wanted to tell her to stay away from him, but how could I? I had promised myself I wouldn't speak his name any more, and so far I'd been doing a good job. Anyway, she could have him if she wanted to, right? "Angeline, good night," I said, and, taking my tray, left the table. As I walked away, I could hear Jill berating Angeline, and Angeline laughing. I dumped most of my food in the garbage and went up to my room.

I got out my books. I was running out of assignments to do. I just decided to begin working in my math textbook, doing every single exercise, since I didn't know what Mr. Bernard would assign. I got through a few chapters before I began to lose focus. Then I read a murder mystery, though I figured out who the murderer was about twenty pages in. Finally, I decided that I had done enough for the day, and congratulated myself on making it through a Sunday. Weekdays, with classes and other obligations, would be easier to get through, I was sure.

I lay down to sleep, but all I could do was toss and turn. I couldn't shake the image of the monster in his bed, tossing and turning too. Was he really miserable? Did I want him to be? Making this worse was the fact that there was something under my bed that I couldn't stop thinking about. It was like the princess and the pea. All I could think about was that thing under my bed. I wanted to get it out and look at it.

_Do it_, suggested the Traitor. _You know you want to._

"No way," I said.

_No one would know._

"_I _would know," I said.

_It would just be one night._

Finally, I got up and reached under the bed for the poisoned t-shirt, then got back into bed holding it up to my chest. "I just need this tonight," I told myself, and rolled it into a ball and snuggled into it like it was a stuffed animal or something. "I just can't sleep tonight." The scent was starting to wear off, but I buried my face into it. I thought about a soft place, a warm place, where there was a gentle hand stroking my hair, and the sound of a heartbeat...

I think I dreamed of something nice. I don't know what it was, but it was my dream, and I dreamed it alone. I woke up feeling happy and light, and it took me a few moments when I woke up to remember that the light was gone and the dream was over.

_Updated September 8, 2012._


	14. I: I Heart Fill in the Blank

_Revised a little November 7, 2012. Made Sydney a little more in character, I think. _

**Chapter 13: I Heart (Fill in the Blank)**

Monday was time for another visit to Clarence and Dorothy. I managed to pull myself together enough to drive Jill over for the feeding. I waited out in the car while she did the disgusting deed, but other than that, I was proud of how calm I was being about the whole thing.

Afterward, I dropped Jill and Eddie off at the monster's house for a visit, telling them I'd be back in an hour or so. I went to the coffee shop for a caffeine fix, and drove back to the apartment complex after about 45 minutes, not wanting to be late. Again, I waited in the car for Jill and Eddie to be done with their monstrous business.

I pulled out a copy of _War and Peace_, figuring now was as good a time as any to begin my third re-read of the book. My concentration was broken when someone tapped on my window. I looked up and saw the monster standing there. His face was expressionless. I rolled down my window a few inches.

"Yo, Sage," he said. I noticed Jill and Eddie then, too, standing by the back-seat door, and I hit the button to unlock the door for them.

"What do you want?" I said to the monster as Jill and Eddie climbed in.

"Hello to you too," he said. "Well, since you asked, I want my shirt back. Do you have it?"

"What?"

"My shirt," he said.

"Your shirt?" My mind raced.

"S-H-I-R-T," he spelled. "Shirt. Did you turn deaf the same day that you lost all your memories?"

"I haven't lost my memories," I said. "I got them back. I remembered that you're a monster."

"Yeah yeah yeah, bladdy bladdy." He grinned wide, showing his fangs. "Oooooh, scary! Now, do you plan to return my shirt or not?"

"I burned it," I blurted out. Why did I say that? _You know why,_ the Traitor whispered. _Now you don't have to give it back._

He paused. "That was my favorite shirt," he said. "Burning it seems a bit extreme, even for you."

"Well, that's what you do with the things of evil." I turned to look at something out the right side of my car. I stared as if it were very, very, interesting. As an actual fact there wasn't anything there, but I stared at it nonetheless. Then I casually wiped a tear from my cheek, hoping that the monster didn't see it.

"Are you crying?" he asked, his voice softer now.

"No," I said. "Please go away now. I don't have your shirt anymore. We don't have anything else to say to each other."

"Are you sure? Sydney, isn't there anything you want to say? Why are you crying?"

"I'm not crying, I told you already," I said, hating the catch in my voice. Where was that coming from? "And I don't have anything to say. Please go."

"Well," he said, his voice cold again. "I'll go, but only because you said please." And he left, disappearing back into his building.

I bit my lip to keep from saying another word as Eddie and Jill said hi to me. I pulled the car out of the parking spot, and then the facts sank in: He had left. I told him to leave and he left. Monster.

_What would you have called him if he had stayed?_ asked the Traitor.

"I would have called him a monster then too," I answered her. "Because that's what he is. Now shut up."

I cleared my throat, and then I said to Eddie and Jill, "Sorry you had to see that." They didn't respond. "How was the visit?" I asked, trying to sound pleasant.

"Don't ask," said Eddie, and it seemed like good advice.

On the drive home, we were all quiet. It was the same through dinner that night. Everything was off kilter. I knew that my decision to end things with the monster was the source of the awkwardness with everyone. It probably didn't help that they heard me calling him a monster. I finished my food as quickly as I could and almost ran back to my room, only to find myself again staring at the ceiling in that now-familiar semi-comatose state.

I tried to do some homework, but then realized I'd written my English essay in German, and had done my chemistry homework using alchemist symbols. I read a few hundred pages of _War and Peace_, but my attention kept wandering. Eventually I just gave it all up as a hopeless endeavor and got ready for bed, using some gym clothes as pajamas rather than the poisoned t-shirt.

When I finally crawled into bed, though, I couldn't stop myself. I got out the t-shirt and held it in my lap for a while, like it was a teddy-bear or a pet dog. Then I put it back under the pillow and settled down under the covers. I lay on my side with one hand under my pillow, stroking the t-shirt. I fell asleep like that, with it clutched between my fingers...

… And found myself in Clarence's living room. At once, all my muscles tensed, and my mouth went dry. This was a spirit-dream, I realized. Then where was Adr- the monster? I almost called out his name, but bit my lip. I wasn't going to say his name. I wasn't going to even think it.

Emotions warred in me: anger that he hadn't respected my boundaries, fear at what he'd say, anticipation about how good it would feel to yell at him some more. There was also a feeling in my ribcage, like a thing with feathers. I was going to _see_ him. I was going to see _him_.

"Where are you?" I called out. I felt shaky. Would he try to kiss me? Did I want him to?

"Hi Sydney," said a voice from behind me. "It's nice to see you."

I turned around to see Sonya Karp. Disappointment fought relief inside me, and I really couldn't tell which emotion won. "Um, hi, Sonya," I said.

Someone stepped from behind Sonya. "Hi, Syd," said Rose, and sat down on a couch. "I like your shirt," she added, giving me a penetrating look. "It looks a little big on you, though." I looked down at myself and saw, to my horror, that I was wearing the poisoned t-shirt. I focused for a moment, closing my eyes, and when I looked back down, I was wearing a tank-top and blue plaid pajama shorts. They were a little cuter than my ugly gym clothes at least.

"Wow," said Sonya. "You have amazing control for a non-spirit user." She sat down on an armchair. I stayed on my feet and crossed my arms over my chest.

"Thank you, I guess," I said. I hadn't seen Sonya in months, not since she'd left Palm Springs a few months ago after the abortive attempt to study Strigoi restoration with Adrian and Dimitri. That whole thing had been a fiasco, and everyone had agreed to end the attempt after only a few weeks. She looked pretty much the same as she had then, and was in her usual impenetrable beatific mood.

"I wanted to come talk to you about the situation you're having with dream-walking with Adrian," said Sonya. "And Rose came along because we thought you might feel more comfortable having a friend here."

I studied Rose's strange expression before I replied. "I don't buy it," I said. "I don't think Rose is here to make me more comfortable. I think she's here for some other reason."

"Really?" Rose said. "What on earth could I need to see you about?" She gave me a glare that felt like a punch to the stomach. It was safe to say that she _knew_. "Oh yeah!" she said, slapping her forehead as if suddenly remembering something. "You dumped Adrian for no good reason and called him a bunch of awful names, and now you won't answer your phone when I call."

"Rose, I don't know what you're talking about," I said, looking at her desperately and jerking my head toward Sonya. "I'm an alchemist. I don't date your kind..."

"Oh, don't freak out because of Sonya," said Rose. "She already knows."

I looked at Sonya, who gave me a kind smile. "It was obvious even before I left," she said in that gentle voice. "Your auras glowed when you were around each other. I was surprised it took as long as it did for you two to figure it out and get together." She smiled again.

I covered my face with my hands. Did the whole world know? "It was wrong for us to start anything," I said, my voice muffled. "He's Moroi, and I'm human. That should have been the end of the story. We lost our way."

"When I saw Adrian the other day, it was as clear as day how he felt about you," said Sonya, as if not hearing me. "I guess it was before your fight. He was very happy. His feelings had clearly grown since I had last seen him. Whenever he said your name, his aura would sort of expand and pulse. He cares deeply for you. And you-"

I interrupted her. "That's how he felt then, maybe," I said. "But he wouldn't have felt like that forever. I bet by now he hates me."

"Well, you tried to make sure of that," said Rose. "What did he even do?"

"It's not important," I said. "How did you find out about any of this?"

"Jill called me," Rose said. "Adrian being miserable makes Jill miserable, and then she calls me up and tries to make me miserable." She sighed. "I'm kind of busy as it is, Sydney."

"Well, then go wake up and don't worry about me," I said. "I'm certainly not asking for your help."

Rose rolled her eyes. "You obviously need it though." She looked over at Sonya. "Hey, Sonya, would you give me and Syd a minute?"

"Hmm, I can't exactly leave..." she said, gesturing around her.

"I know," said Rose. "But you could sort of..."

"I'll go over there," she suggested, gesturing to the far side of the living room.

"Yes, if you don't mind..."

"Ok," said Sonya. "You two have a little talk. But not too long, ok? I need to talk to Sydney too."

"Fine," said Rose. "This won't take long."

Sonya sat down at a chair at the far side of the room, and Rose patted the couch next to her. "Come on, Sydney. Let's talk. What really happened?"

I sat down next to her. The truth was that I wanted to tell her what had happened. It was weighing me down in a way that was almost physical. Who else could I tell? But I was sort of embarrassed. I spoke a little hesitantly. "I went into one of his dreams," I said. "By mistake."

"Yeah, Sonya told me about how you initiated a spirit-dream," Rose said. "You really are getting powerful."

"That's not what I mean," I said. "I actually saw a dream of his. A dream-dream, not a spirit-dream."

Rose's eyes widened as she took that in. "I didn't know that anyone could do that," she said.

"Well, apparently, I can. Too much time spent around your kind."

Rose ignored that. "Was he angry?" she said, after a pause.

"Angry?"

"That you violated his privacy," she said.

"I didn't mean to," I said. "It was an accident."

"And I'm sure you apologized," she said, but the way she said it, she didn't sound sure at all.

"No," I said. "I don't have to apologize to him. If anything it should be the other way around."

"Why?" Rose looked at me, doubtful.

"I saw that he was dreaming of something... very upsetting."

"What?"

"Just something I didn't want to see."

"Ok, Sydney. What was it?" Her voice was much gentler now, and her annoyance seemed to have passed. "Whatever it was, it must have really upset you for you to react like this. So just tell me, ok? I can't help you unless I understand."

I sighed. "Fine. He was having sex with a girl while he drank blood from her throat."

Rose wrinkled her nose. "Oh, wow. Kind of gross thing to see your boyfriend doing. I'm sorry you saw that. Who was the girl?"

I looked away and didn't say anything.

"Come on, please, tell me. Who was it?"

"It's not important," I said, finally.

"Omigod," she said. "Was it me?"

"What?" I said it more loudly than I had intended, and I saw Sonya look up. "No," I said, more quietly. "It wasn't you. You're pretty vain, aren't you?"

"Well, then, who was it?" Rose said. I couldn't tell if she was happy or disappointed that she wasn't the dream-girl.

"Me," I said, again more loudly than I had intended. "It was me, of course."

Rose looked at me, confused. "Um. Then... What's the problem?"

"The problem?"

"Um, yeah. What's the issue?" She gave me a confused look. "You saw your boyfriend dreaming of being in bed with you. Sure, it was a little dirty but I mean, come on." I didn't reply. "Do I have to spell it out?" she said, after a pause, then went on when I didn't answer. "He was dreaming of _you_, you idiot. Not some random girl from a bar, not Megan Fox, not… well, me. _You_. It's you who he dreams of."

"And he dreams of drinking my blood!"

"Well, yeah. He's a Moroi. It's not exactly like, something people talk about. But sometimes people have dirty dreams. I mean, don't you have any dreams that aren't exactly PG?"

"I don't dream," I said.

"Everyone dreams," said Rose.

"Ok," I admitted. "I enter REM stage and everything. Everyone does. Modern research suggests that REM stage provides essential pruning of unnecessary mental connections so that we are free to keep only the needed ones. This in turn keeps our mental processes clearer."

Rose rolled her eyes. "So?" she said. "Do you dream or not, then?"

"I do," I said. "I must, medically. But I don't remember my dreams most of the time. I must not awaken directly from REM stage, when my brain is in theta stage..."

"I don't really know what any of that means," Rose said. "See, it's usually a lot simpler for most people. Me, for example?" She spoke as if she were explaining that two and two makes four. "When I don't like someone, sometimes I dream of punching them." She grinned at me, and I edged away from her on the couch. "And when I do like someone, a whole lot, then sometimes I dream of kissing them." I edged away further, and she laughed. "Now who's vain?" she said.

I ignored that. "I'm not like you," I said. "My world doesn't break down into simple 'punch or kiss' dynamics."

"That's me," said Rose, rolling her eyes again. "Caveman Rose. 'Fire bad! Tree pretty!'" she said thickly, in an imitation caveman voice.

Again, I ignored her. "The situation with Adr- him is more complicated. What I saw just emphasized to me how different he and I are. It was just long past time that he and I ended it. I can't be with someone who wants to... do that. To me."

Rose sighed. "Can't you just take it as a compliment and move on?"

"I can't move on," I said, my voice dropping still lower. "There's nowhere to move on to."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that … he isn't going to be here in Palm Springs for much longer. Sooner or later, he'll leave. And then he'll end things with me anyway. So I'd have given up everything important to me for nothing. For a … monster."

"Wait," said Rose. "Let me get this straight. This isn't really about the dream at all. You dumped him because you thought he was going to dump you, isn't that it?"

"I didn't say that," I said.

"Um, you kiiiinda did," said Rose.

"Listen," I replied. "My point is that it can't work between him and me. No matter what. It would have to end. He wants to drink my blood, and I will never let him. So it won't work out. I thought I could get past the fact that he's Moroi, but that was naïve. Everything else about him might be great, but he's a vampire, and so it can't work. That's just what he is."

Rose sighed again. "Well, it's just as well you ended it then. Because you must not have really loved him." I looked at her sharply as she stood up from the couch and stared down at me. "When you love someone, you love all of them. You couldn't do that for him, could you? You were never really ok with what he was. In real love, you don't get to pick and choose. You don't get to say things like, 'I love him even though he's a Moroi.' It has to be, 'He's a Moroi and I love him.' Otherwise, it's like when someone says, 'you're pretty good for a girl,' or 'he's ok for a black guy.' You don't write off who someone is. You can't love half a person. Adrian is Moroi. And if you can't handle that, and I guess you can't, then you don't deserve him."

"Hey!" I said. I was stunned. Where did she get off saying something like that to me? She had no idea how I felt about him. "It's not like I was just prejudiced against him! He's _actually_ a monster! He sucks people's blood!"

"This is getting really old," Rose said, raking her fingers through her hair. "You know, when Lissa and Christian broke up for no fucking reason, I bit my tongue. 'They'll figure it out,' I told myself. 'Let them be.' When Dimitri was being an idiot about getting back together with me, I let him have space and stuff, even though like, I was the one who brought the idiot back from being a fucking monster. But you know what? This time, I'm not going to sit around and smile. I am going to tell you, to your face, that you are being a complete idiot, and that you are way to smart to be acting like an idiot, ok?"

"What..." I stammered. She might be shorter than me, but something about her sort of scared me sometimes.

"Do all of us a favor and _think_," she continued in a more gentle voice. She reached out to me and I flinched a little, but all she did was squeeze my shoulder. "It's obvious from where I stand that you two are nuts about each other. And you, Sydney, are just wasting time and driving yourself crazy. You need to deal with it. Embrace the pain, spank your inner moppet, whatever, but get over it. Figure out what is _actually_ bothering you and deal with it. Then call him up and say you're sorry or something." She sighed heavily. "I'd hang around and talk to you more, but this is just too stupid. Call me when you figure out that you want him back, ok?"

And with that, she turned to Sonya. "I think I'm kinda done here, Sonya," she called. "She's all yours, really."

She turned back to me as Sonya crossed the room. "You'll be fine with Sonya, right?"

"Ex-Strigoi, current Moroi? What on earth could make me uncomfortable about that?"

Rose grinned. "All of it. But I think you can handle it. By the way, I like your boxer shorts. They look like a guy's pair, though. Are they Adrian's?"

I looked down at the blue plaid shorts I had changed into. She was right – they were boxer shorts. They were the same as the ones he had worn that first night in the forest. That was the night that he had asked me what would make me happy, and I had said... I had said... It didn't matter what I had said. I had to let him go. I concentrated for a moment, and when I looked back down I was dressed head to toe in my Amberwood uniform. That seemed like a safe choice.

"Very nice," said Rose. "You're all ready for school now. So, can I go home, Sonya?"

Sonya nodded, and closed her eyes for a moment. Rose shimmered and disappeared. With her gone, the room seemed much emptier. Rose, though so short physically, had taken up so much space, so much air. Sonya's presence was quieter, even if she did leave me slightly on edge. Whenever I looked at her, I remembered her how she was when I first met her: with red-ringed eyes and a cold, cold voice.

"I don't really know what's going on here," Sonya said. "But if you want to talk to me about it, I'd be happy to listen."

"I don't," I said.

"Then we won't talk about it," she said, calmly. "I came here to talk to you about the strange things that have been happening, anyway. I was hoping to experience a spirit dream with you, so I could see if it really is different from a standard one."

"Well, here we are," I said.

"Yes, but this is a spirit dream that I'm 'driving', so to speak. I chose this location."

"Why did you choose Clarence's living room?" I asked.

"It was one of the few places in Palm Springs that we've both been to fairly frequently," she answered. "I would have used Adrian's living room, but I thought it would upset you too much."

"Oh," I said. I conceded her point.

"In any case, in order to study what's happening here, I want you to lead a dream. What I really want to try is somewhere you've been and I haven't."

I wracked my brain for a minute. Where could we go? I didn't want to take Sonya to any of the same places that I had seen with the monster, but I had gone so many places with him that it was hard to think of someplace new. Finally I said, "How about New York City? Have you been there?"

"No," she said. "That should be perfect." She paused. "How do you want to... go?"

"I don't know," I said. "With Adr- him, we used to just concentrate and then open a door together."

If she noticed that I had stopped short of actually saying the name, she didn't say anything about it. "Ok," she said. "Let's do that then. Maybe that one?"

She gestured to the living room door, and we walked over and stood in front of it. We both focused our energy. I pictured Times Square at night, with all the glowing advertisements. We opened the living room door together and behind it lay the sidewalk and lights. I felt a strong wave of vertigo as we moved through the doorway. I closed the door behind us, and it promptly disappeared. We were in New York City.

"Wow," said Sonya, looking around at the famous square. It was night, but all the neon signs glowed brightly, giving the impression of daylight. "What an... overwhelming place."

"It's garish and ugly," I said. I liked New York City, actually, but hated Times Square and didn't understand why people visited it. I had chosen Times Square for just that reason, in fact. I wanted to go someplace ugly with Sonya. I was saving the beautiful places for... never. I would never go to the beautiful places.

"I don't know if I'd go so far as to say 'ugly,' but it's not my favorite place," Sonya said, carefully. We looked around at the bright neon advertisements and huge storefronts, all trying to lure us in with animatronics and flatscreen video feeds. "I guess the issue right now is how this feels for us. For me, this feels quite different from a spirit-dream. Much more real. I understand now what Adrian was talking about."

She pointed up at a billboard for Cup Noodles, which had a place of prominence at the top of the building at One Times Square. Smoke was rising up from the cup, as if it were actually full of hot noodles. "Oh, look at that. I know it sounds silly, but I remember that from a picture I saw when I was a little girl. I've always wanted to see it in person."

"It isn't really there any more," I said.

"Really?" she asked in surprise.

"No," I said. "I don't remember what is there now, but it definitely isn't the Cup Noodles sign."

"Strange," she said. "Look up there, to the right." She pointed at a huge billboard for a movie that was due out in theaters next week. "That ad at least is current."

"Yes," I agreed. "The movie looks really insipid, though. _Mission: Explosion II_. Even the title is stupid."

"But don't you see?" she asked. "That ad couldn't have been here when you were last here."

"It wasn't, no..."

"So, this is a mixture of something that is really here, now – which I think is your doing – mixed with my expectations of the place." She looked around, taking it all in. "Can we walk around a little?"

"Sure," I said. We crossed the street, heading for a food cart that was stationed on the corner of 44th and Broadway, about a half block away from where we were standing. It had an orange umbrella over it, and even from where we stood we could smell a sweet, candy-like smell coming from it. "Ever had nuts from Nuts 4 Nuts?" I asked Sonya.

"No," she said. "But if they're what's in that cart, they smell delicious."

"They're good if you like that sort of thing. They're sort of a New York City specialty. They're nuts that are sort of roasted in a thick candy-coating and served hot." We reached the small cart bearing the Nuts 4 Nuts logo. "Try the cashews," I said. I dug out a small wax paper bag of cashews from the cart, feeling a little like a thief. I threw them to Sonya, who caught them.

"They're warm," she said, surprised. "I can feel the warmth."

"Yep," I said. She held them out to me, but I declined.

"This is so real," she said. She spun on the spot, looking around as she opened the folded wax paper bag. "I almost feel like we could go see a Broadway show..."

"There's no people, though," I said, as we began walking up Broadway. "The production would be pretty quiet, but I guess at least we'd be able to get seats."

She laughed, a low, melodious laugh, then ate a cashew. "These are really good," she said, with a little surprise.

"I know," I said. "They're coated in sugar and ridiculously high in calories, so they better be good." It was cold out here in Times Square, I realized. I wished I were wearing something warmer.

"Oh, it's worth it to have a treat, especially in a dream," Sonya said, with a smile. "I never would have tried these without you, so thank you for sharing this with me."

"You're welcome," I said, stiffly.

"Food amazes me," she said, a little dreamily. "I can't get over its variety. In this, I can taste sweetness, saltiness, and the fatty flavor of the cashew itself. It's almost a miracle." She chewed happily.

I was about to ask her what she was talking about when it hit me - she had spent about a year as a Stigoi, during which time she would subsisted on blood only. I shook the thought off as we kept walking.

"Can we go into stores?" Sonya asked.

"Sure," I said. "We can go anywhere, I'm pretty sure. I always did with..." I trailed off. She gave me a searching look but didn't comment.

She pointed out a souvenir store and we went in. There were tons of items marked with the standard 'I Love NY' logo: shot glasses, pencils, mugs, and t-shirts. Sonya marveled. "The details!" she said, holding up a souvenir teddy-bear. "I can't believe the details."

She walked towards the back of the store, and I stayed at the front, looking at a display of key-chains that had a name on the front and the I Love NY logo on the back. They never had my name on these kinds of things. I studiously avoided the A section, scanned past Mary and Nancy and Rachel, down to the S section. They didn't have Sydney, of course, so I picked up a key-chain marked Sylvia and focused for a moment. I looked back at it and smiled. It said "Sydney" now.

I took a few steps towards a t-shirt display, and noticed that, now that Sonya had gotten a few meters away from me, it was difficult to walk, as if I were moving through glue. It reminded me a little of being in the pine forest alone. I was just thinking of calling for Sonya when she came back to the front of the store, looking a little shaken.

"It was strange," she said. "When I got to the very back of the store, it got sort of... dark. And thick. It was hard to breathe, almost."

"It got like that a bit for me too, when you were far away," I said.

"Hmm," she said. "It seems like when we're separated, the reality sort of... breaks down. That's strange. I would have guessed that if just one of us was powering the dream, then only one of us would experience side-effects like that." Her eyes crept over to the key-chains. "Oh look," she said. "They have 'Sonya'. They _never_ have 'Sonya'! Oh, and 'Rose'! No 'Lissa' but they do have 'Jill'... and 'Christian'... and look, a whole row of 'Adr'-"

I cut her off. "Can you believe how many dumb souvenirs they sell? Who really needs an 'I love New York' souvenir spoon rest?"

"No one," laughed Sonya. "You know," she said, "when I was younger I thought you were really supposed to pronounce the heart symbol as 'heart,' not 'love.' So as a little kid I'd always just say 'I heart New York,' or 'I heart L.A.' Or whatever it was. 'I heart... fill in the blank.'"

I picked up one of the I love NY key-chains and held it in my hands for a moment before handing it back to her. She smiled when she saw that now said "I Heart Fill-In-the-Blank."

"I wish I could keep this!" she said.

"Maybe you can," I said. "Put it in your pocket, and see if it's there in the morning."

"I'd be too frightened to do that," she said. "I don't want to play with a power I don't understand." She put the key-chain back on the shelf. I wondered if someone would find that key-chain in New York in the morning, and wonder where it came from. "Well, should we walk on?" Sonya asked.

"Let's head uptown," I said. "Central Park is that way, if we make it that far." We walked out of the store with our key-chains, walking along Seventh Avenue.

"You have fantastic control," Sonya said. "I don't know if I could have changed that key-chain the way you did."

"I've just had a lot of practice in dreams," I said.

"Mikhail has spent a lot of time in dreams, too," said Sonya. I knew that Mikhail was her boyfriend. I'd even met him briefly during my "imprisonment" near the Moroi court. "He's a dhampir, so he doesn't have any magical powers, making the situation similar to that between you and Adrian. We spent a lot of time apart when I was teaching at St. Vladamir's and he was stationed at court..." She trailed off. "Anyway, he's never been able to do the things you do."

"But it's not as if I'm just doing this on my own," I said. "When you got too far away from me at the store, it was difficult for me to move."

"True. My best guess is that you're using my spirit abilities as the fuel for whatever it is that you do. It's an unusual gift, and a rather beautiful one, especially considering the special relationship you have with a spirit user. You two compliment each other extremely well."

"I don't have a special relationship with anyone," I said. "And I don't have any unique magical gifts." I rubbed my arms, trying to warm up.

"I guess I misspoke about the relationship," she said, equably. "But I'll have to respectfully state that I think you do have a gift. When I meet Mikhail in dreams, he's not usually able to change his clothes on a whim the way you can. And we usually visit the memory of a place, you know? A childhood home, something like that. It's not a real representation of how the place might look nowadays. However, I think that when _you_ dream walk with someone, what you're visiting isn't really just the memory of a place. In a way, you're going to the place itself. Or perhaps, the place's dreams…." She stared off into space. "They say this city never sleeps, but maybe it does," she said. "Maybe we're visiting its dreams right now."

"What does that mean?" I asked. I was still cold, so I made myself a sweater to put on over my uniform

"Maybe someday the city will wake," she went on. "Maybe it will rise..."

"Ok, Sonya? You're not making a lot of sense and you're sort of freaking me out."

She looked back at me as if a little startled. "Oh, sorry," she said. "I guess I trailed off there." She gave me a slightly spacey smile.

Her spaciness reminded me of something I had seen in the monster at times, the spirit darkness that came over him. Suddenly, I felt anxiety rise in me. What was he going to do without me to help him reset his imbalance? Would he turn back to alcohol? Would he hurt himself, as Lissa had? Would he end up insane, as Robert Doru had? Would he deliberately turn Strigoi, as Sonya had? The alchemist file on spirit users wasn't long, but the information we had wasn't encouraging. I tried not to think about it. I didn't care about a monster's problems.

Out loud I said, "So, you're saying that I am somehow making these dreams more real. That's the same thing that … we have been saying all along."

"I guess it sort of is," she said. "But at least we've confirmed that you can do this same thing with another spirit user."

"A successful experiment," I said. "Spirit is the constant, and I'm the variable."

"Sort of," she said with a laugh. "And now we have a theory: that you're doing something special."

"Is it dangerous?" I asked, hearing the fear in my voice.

"I'm not sure," she answered, gently. "But you might want to watch what you do. You're making changes in the world around you, and some of them are sticking. Try not to make frivolous changes."

I wondered if somewhere in Venice, a gondola might have been found with a gas pedal installed. I must have looked pretty terrified because she added with a laugh, "Oh, I'm sure most of what you guys do has been fine. There would have been something on the news about it if you were really making drastic changes in the real world. But you should just be aware that you're doing something unusual and sort of... keep it to a minimum."

"It's moot anyway," I said, after thinking that over. "It's over. It's all over. I won't go on any more dream walks because I'm not with him anymore. I never really was."

"You never were?" Sonya replied. "That's an interesting statement to make."

"Well, I wasn't. We come from two different worlds."

"He didn't seem to mind that," Sonya said, very gently. "He cares about you quite a bit."

"He just thinks he cares about me. He doesn't really. He'll be fine in a few days."

"What about you? When will you be fine?"

"I'm fine now," I said.

"Of course you are," she said. "I like your sweater, by the way." I looked down at myself. The sweater I had made for myself was charcoal colored and made of thin, fine cashmere. It was about three sizes too big for me. I looked down at it with dawning revelation about where I had gotten it. "Don't change it," Sonya added, hastily, as if sensing what I was about to do. I closed my eyes and concentrated. When I opened my eyes, I was wearing an Amberwood Prep volleyball sweatshirt instead.

Sonya sighed. "You know, Mikhail is a dhampir. It's almost unheard of, for a female Moroi to fall in love with a male dhampir. These relationships are expected to be temporary and primarily... well, physical. Love isn't supposed to enter into it."

"What's your point?"

"I'm just saying that I understand how hard it can be to fall in love with someone when other people don't understand or approve."

"I'm not in love with anyone," I said.

"Ok," she said. "Fair enough."

"And I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"Then we won't," she said. "Isn't Carnegie Hall around here? Do you think we could go in, since we're so close?"

"It's on 56th Street," I said. "That's still about six short blocks away."

"Ok," she said. "We can keep heading in this direction, then."

"How's Mikhail?" I asked her.

She seemed surprised at the question. "He's fine," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just curious about him."

"What about him?"

"I was curious how you two have gotten along since you came back."

"Oh," she said, smiling. "We get along really well. We had a lot of talks about my decision to go Strigoi." I was surprised at how she just said it, with very little embarrassment. I guess at this point she was beyond embarrassment on the subject. "He understands now a lot more about the effect that spirit darkness had on me, and forgives me for my decision. It was born out of sickness and fear, not a quest for power. Just a quest for relief. I was just in so much pain..." She paused, as if gathering the strength to speak more.

I suddenly had a nightmarish image of beautiful green eyes rimmed in red. "That won't happen," I told myself. "It just won't." To Sonya, I said, "I'm sorry you went through that. I'm glad that Mikhail is ok with it."

" I'm so grateful for his forgiveness," she said. "I guess that love can make that kind of thing possible. What do they say? 'Love is patient, love is kind'?"

"First Corinthians," I said, quietly.

"It's a nice quote," Sonya said. "And it's so true. You really do need patience to handle love. Mikhail and I have gotten even closer as a result of... our time apart. It helped us understand how important we both were to each other, and made us more likely to just ask each other for help when we need it." She smiled. "We're talking about getting married."

"That's great," I said. "Do you ever bite him?" The minute I said it, I realized I had gone too far. Sonya stopped walking, and her normally pale face got even paler. She didn't answer me right away, and I was afraid that she was just going to wake us both up.

Finally she said, "That's an incredibly invasive question."

"I guess so," I said. "But I asked Rose if she had let Adrian bite her, and she wouldn't tell me. I just want to _know_."

"Know what, exactly?" Sonya asked, her voice still a little icy.

"What's normal among your kind. Rose told me that Moroi want to drink blood from their dhampir partners, that it's a normal desire for them, even if no one ever talks about it. I've never had the perspective of a female Moroi. I didn't mean the question to be rude. I just am gathering information."

She studied my face, then looked away. "I guess I can see where you're coming from, but I still think it's an invasive question. So I'll say tha there are times that I'd like to..." – and her voice dropped to a whisper – "...bite Mikhail." She added in a rush, "Please don't tell anyone I said so. I would never talk about this with a Moroi or a dhampir. I'm only telling you because you really don't know. So yes, I'll just say that whether or not he and I actually do that, there are times that I would like to very much." She blushed then.

So, gentle, sweet-seeming Sonya had a touch of monster, too, I thought. "So, if he didn't let you, would you be upset?"

"Of course not," she said. "It's similar to... Oh, it's so hard to think of an analog in the rest of life. Hmm... I mean, there are always things we want, right? You might want an extra serving of dessert, or to sleep all day, or to just walk out of a boring class. But you don't do those things, and it doesn't bother you that much that you can't. You get along fine."

"Yes, but I don't ever want to suck someone's blood," I said. I shook my head. "I just don't understand. You guys drink blood. It's gross."

"If we didn't, we'd die. It's part of our nutritional needs. You have nutritional needs too, right?" She looked at me closely, and I wondered if she thought I was fat. I hoped she wouldn't say anything about it.

"I am careful to eat healthy food," I said.

"Good," she said. "I eat a healthy diet, as well. It happens to include blood."

"Blood that you suck from your boyfriend's neck," I said.

A silence fell after I said that. Mentally, I kicked myself. I couldn't seem to control myself tonight. I might be known for being a bit... outspoken. But there were limits, and I usually tried to keep to them. I wondered if Sonya was just going to turn around and tell me to get lost or something. But after a moment, she simply said, "It is what it is. We are who we are."

We walked in silence for almost a whole block after that. Then I said, "I think that was a little rude of me. I'm sorry."

"It's ok," she said. "I just think you're very upset about all this." When I didn't reply, she went on. "It's not my business, of course. But you obviously have this situation on your mind, so I'll give you a little advice. I think you should just let go of all these worries. If you're worried about Adrian wanting to drink blood from you, don't be. He won't mind if you don't want that. I say, just love him for who and what he is, and move on."

"I told you already," I said. "I don't love him."

"Fine," she said. "I'm sorry I said anything. We can drop it."

After a pause, I said, "I'm a professional. I have been trained to fight against evil. We use science and technology alongside faith, and we do it to fight against magic and vampires. You keep saying I've been doing some sort of weird dream-magic, but I don't do magic. And you keep saying that I love that vampire, but... I mean, sorry if it sounds rude. I know you're vampire and everything. But I wouldn't fall in love with one."

"I thought we had dropped the topic," she replied, calmly.

"Yes, but, you have to know the truth."

"I think I do know the truth," Sonya said, still pleasantly. "It's obvious you have some thinking to do, both about Adrian and about your magical gifts. I'm not sure why you're denying it. You spoke a moment about embracing truth, didn't you? You keep saying that you're a professional, a scientist. If that's the case, then it's your task to face facts. And the facts are fighting against you right now. "

"I am facing facts," I said. Unaccountably, I found my voice choking up. "It could never have worked for him and me."

"Ok," said Sonya. "That's a shame. I won't bother you any more about it. Look, we're at 54th St. We're almost there."

"It's not a shame," I said. "It's just the truth. It never would have worked. And I'm better off without him."

"I don't know the future," Sonya said. "It doesn't work like that, not for anyone. But if you're a scientist, your interest should be in the facts all around you. You could start with the fact of what you're wearing."

I looked down at myself and was horrified to see that I was wearing his cashmere sweater again. I had changed it without meaning to. I closed my eyes and again changed to the sweatshirt.

"Are you happy now?" I asked, pulling myself together. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Are you?" she asked. I didn't answer. "It's tough, I know," she added. The gentleness to her voice just bothered me more.

"You _don't_ know," I said. "The problems you talk about, about you and Mikhail having a rough time because he's a dhampir and you're Moroi? It's nothing like the difference between a human and a Moroi. Even if... you know who... weren't a Moroi, he'd still be himself. He'd still be so different from me. There is no solution to this other than the one I chose."

"There was one more," she said, after a short pause. "It's almost always harder to fight for what you really want than it is to just give up. But I know something about giving up, Sydney. I chose a sort of death rather than to keep fighting, and from that I learned that life, and continuing to fight, is the truly brave decision. At some point, there is greater risk in giving up than there is in fighting, because when you choose not to fight, you lose everything."

"Yeah yeah yeah, bladdy bladdy," I said.

"Well, you don't have to take my advice, I guess," Sonya said. She seemed to take my brusqueness in stride. "It's getting late anyway, and you must be exhausted. We should wrap this up. I can see Carnegie Hall some other time."

"So," I said. "We got practically nothing done."

"I think we got a lot done," she said, in the same level tone. "I got enough information to start investigating on my own. I'll try a few more dreams with non-spirit users, and see what happens, see if anyone else can do what you do. I wish I knew a few more humans. In many ways, it's a shame that our races are so divided, though I understand why some separation is necessary."

"So you're just going to go on more spirit dreams and... see what happens?"

"That's all I can think to do," she said. "In the absence of other knowledge, one must experiment and investigate."

"Are you ok to keep using spirit like that?" I asked her. "Won't it cause you... problems? You won't want to go Strigoi again or anything?"

"I'm fine, but thank you for asking. I pretty much have the spirit under control. I do yoga, I meditate, and I see a therapist regularly. I am finding a way to manage this long term." She drew in a slow breath, and I saw that she was trying right now, in front of me, to manage her symptoms. The slight instability I felt coming from her reminded me of the instability I often saw in someone else. I couldn't help it – I wanted to help her.

"Well," I said. "Um. Before you go..." I took a few steps towards her.

"What?" she asked, pleasantly.

I tentatively touched her temples with my fingertips. I expected her to pull back at least a little, but she didn't. She simply regarded me steadily as I concentrated and reached out to her mind. It took only a moment to find it – the off-kilter part of her mind, the gathering pool of darkness. It was just the same as what I'd found so many times within the monster. I set it back to rights. It was the least I could do, considering how rude I'd been all night.

Sonya's eyes widened, and I took a few steps back. "Adrian didn't tell me you could do that," Sonya said. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," I said. It felt more natural to say that, this time.

She considered it for another moment, still obviously very surprised. "Did you ever do that for Adrian?" she asked finally.

"A few times," I said. "Is that wrong?"

"No," she said. "I don't think so. I think it's a very generous and loving thing for you to do for him." She paused, as if thinking. "You know..." she said, slowly. "Rose told me about a couple she met in Siberia, Mark and Oksana."

"I knew them too," I said.

"Then you know that she's a spirit user, and that they're bonded, right?"

"I didn't know they were bonded, actually," I said. They were bonded? And in love? Did that happen a lot, I wondered? Did male-female bond pairs fall in love? I thought of Jill and Adr- the monster, and a wave of bad feeling swept over me. I squished it back down, and tried to pay attention to Sonya.

"Their relationship is very special, Rose says. Mark draws away some of Oksana's darkness, and then she heals the darkness out of him again. Rose says that they keep each other balanced. It sounds like it would take a lot of trust and love, but as far I understand it, it works for them. Their relationship is unusual, like mine is with Mikhail, I guess. But they've been deeply in love and very happy for years and years."

"Why are you telling me this?" I asked.

"I don't know," she said. "I just thought you might find it interesting. I just think it's an interesting example of the options that are available to people who are in love."

"Well, I don't think it's very interesting," I said. "The love lives of Moroi and dhampirs aren't relevant to me."

"I'll bear that in mind," she said simply. "Anyway, like I said, I guess we're done for tonight. Can I come visit you again, as more information becomes available?" she asked.

"I guess," I said. "But I won't have much more to tell you."

"Maybe you'll have something more to ask me," she said. She took my hand and squeezed it. "Good night for now, though, Sydney. Take care of yourself."

"You too," I said. "Good night."

And I opened my eyes. I was lying in my bed in my dorm room. The poisoned t-shirt was clutched between my fingers, but there was no sign of any new dream-debris. No blue boxers, no cashmere sweaters, nothing like that. I told myself I was glad, that I didn't need the aggravation, but I felt… well, disappointed.

_Thief_, muttered the Traitor. _Can't you buy your own cashmere sweaters?_

"That's not the point," I whispered out loud.

_Exactly,_ the voice replied.

I tried to lie back down, but there was something hard and metallic in the bed. I reached for it and found the key-chain from the store, the one that said Sydney on it. I smiled, thinking that, despite the various downsides of dream-logic, at least it had gotten me a personalized key-chain. But then I flipped it over to look at the other side, and my breath caught in my throat.

It didn't say I love New York. In place of "New York," there was a name. A familiar name. A name I couldn't say out loud.

I dropped the key-chain as if it were on fire. "I don't love him," I told myself firmly. " 'Love does not delight in evil.' "

_'...but rejoices with the truth.' _finished the Traitor.

"Don't quote the Bible at me," I said. I picked the key-chain up and threw it across the room. It hit the wall with a loud clank, then fell on the floor. After a moment, I got up and picked it up again. The glittering red heart was broken straight across.

"Cute," I said. "A metaphor."

I put the key-chain on my windowsill next to the other dream-debris, then got into bed, crawling under the blankets. I squeezed the t-shirt to me like a teddy-bear. It didn't smell like him any more, I noticed. But I held it to me, nonetheless. And soon, I was dreaming dreams that no one else visited.


	15. I: Anger is Easy

**Chapter 14: Anger is Easy**

A few days went by. I kept up with school work, exercise, dieting, and not saying a certain name, so I was pretty proud of myself. There was no word from the monster – no calls or emails or anything. I still slept with the t-shirt, but alone in the dark at night, I couldn't seem to resist the urge to clutch it to me. Everything else in my life was a battle and I only had enough energy to fight during the day.

I watched Jill carefully, expecting her to eventually appear at school hung over or coughing up a lung. But she never did. She was always fine, if a little subdued. One night during a study-session she caught me wiping away a rogue tear. She took a deep breath and then said, "I don't want to play go-between you and Adrian, but I will say that he's pretty unhappy too. He's just dealing with it well, compared to what he used to do."

"What is he doing with his time?" I knew I shouldn't ask, but I felt like I had to know.

"He's painting," she said. "And baking. And he went to a couple of yoga classes, because Sonya suggested it I guess, but he says he can't stand the whole breathing 'ha-ha-ha, he-he-he' stuff." She giggled. "His impression of the yoga instructor was really funny. I can't do it but it was funny. Anyway, he gave that up, I think."

"Is he ok, though, otherwise?"

"I said he was dealing. But if you're worried about him, why don't you call him and ask him yourself?" she asked, a little challenge to her normally sweet voice.

"I'm not worried about him," I said. "I just don't want it impacting you."

"Of course," she said, and managed to keep the sarcasm levels below critical.

"We should get back to studying," I added, and we did.

The feeding on Thursday passed without incident, and on Friday, my team had our first quarterfinal match in volleyball. We won, but the celebration seemed empty to me, like watching the last five minutes of a movie you had no emotional investment in. I didn't care that we'd won. I wouldn't have cared if we lost. I just was glad that I could look forward to a continuation of the season and therefore more physical exertion. If I was tired, it always made it easier to fall asleep.

On Saturday, I made good on my promise to go hiking in Palm Canyon with Jill. The day was fairly cloudy and a little cool for late March, so it was the perfect day to go. Eddie came with us, and we brought a picnic lunch. There was a little stream at the bottom of the canyon, and Jill delighted in making the water dance in the air and then come down with enough force to break rocks. Sometimes Eddie's guardian facade faded away, and I'd see him gaze at her with open admiration. I found myself quite pleased to note that Jill seemed a little taken with him, too. If she was developing feelings for Eddie now, then she wouldn't be thinking about any other girl, like Lee for example. She wouldn't be thinking about Lee.

On Sunday, which was April first, I warned Angeline that I would use alchemist technology to give her a horrible case of zits if she played any April Fools day pranks on any of us, especially me. She grinned that wolfish grin. "I don't need to play any pranks," she said. "You're already an April fool for letting Adrian slip through your fingers. By the way, I'm no longer restricted to grounds as of today, so I'll be coming to the feeding tomorrow." I couldn't say no; she was technically one of Jill's guardians.

So on Monday, we all piled into Latte and headed over to Clarence's.

"Adrian just texted me," Jill said, as we drove over. "He says he's over there, visiting Clarence and Dorothy."

I pictured him "visiting" Dorothy. She would unbutton her shirt enough to fold down her high collar. Would he put his arms around her waist as he bit her, in a parody of an embrace? Would he just grab her and clamp down on her neck, like someone at a barbecue biting down on a chicken wing? Would he say thank you afterward? I knew that when he was done she would be starry-eyed, high from the endorphins. She would probably gaze at him like a love-sick girl as he walked away. I felt sick and was glad that I had skipped lunch.

Jill went on. "It's always easier when he's there. Clarence is a sweet old man, but he can be a bit hard to take with all his crazy theories. And this saves work for you, too," she added. "We don't have to drive over to Adrian's apartment after the feeding. So, that's better, right?"

"It doesn't matter, Jill," I said, as pleasantly as I could. "I'm doing my job here. Don't worry about me."

"Okay," she said, clearly still concerned. I smiled at her in the rear-view mirror to try to reassure her. Then I caught a glimpse of Angeline actually licking her lips in anticipation and my smile faded.

When we got there, no one even asked if I'd want to come in. It was just understood that I'd be waiting in the car. I watched them go inside, Angeline practically skipping in her enthusiasm, then got myself comfortable, planning to get through a few chapters of _Anna Karenina_, which for fun I thought I'd read in the original Russian_. _I was a few dozen pages into the book when a brightly-dressed male figure emerged from Clarence's house and approached the car. The man came around to the passenger side, and before I could hit the button to lock the doors, he let himself in and slid into the front seat.

"Sydney," he said grandly. "It's so good to see you! I heard you were sitting outside and had to pay my respects!"

"Hello, Mr. Mazour," I said. He was wearing a deep purple corduroy suit with red trim, a purple silk shirt, a red tie, and a blue and red striped scarf. It was an assault to the eyes to even look at him. "What are you doing here in Palm Springs, sir?"

"I have business with Clarence," he replied. "But I am delighted to see you also. It has been so long! You are looking lovely, if a bit thin... But why are you out here in the car? Why do you not come inside and enjoy our evil company?" He gave me a wide smile.

"I just am more comfortable out here, oddly enough," I said, stiffly. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Ah. So, what I hear is true. There's trouble in paradise for you." His accent and inflection made what he was saying sound almost like the lyrics to a song.

"Excuse me, sir?" I tried to look confused.

"You and Adrian," he said, then gestured expressively. "You know what I am talking about, don't play dumb."

"I'm sorry, sir, I really don't."

"Oh, come now, Sydney. There is no secrets between us. I am a man who is knowing things. You know that."

It was true. Abe always did know things. I wondered if he had heard it from Rose, then discarded the idea. How had he heard? Was he bugging our phones? Or did he have spies placed around Palm Springs? It was pointless to inquire. He'd never tell me. "Please, Mr. Mazour," I said. "If a rumor about something like this got started, it could be... very serious for me. Please don't play games."

"I never am playing games," he said. "But don't worry. Your people will not hear about your _forbidden love_ from me." He grinned, his gold tooth glinting. He was clearly enjoying this immensely.

"Thank you," I said, dryly.

"So, what happened to split you two love-birds up? Did he cheat on you?"

I thought about continuing to maintain my innocence, but knew there was no point. And anyway, the guy _hadn't_ cheated on me. Might as well clear that up. "No, nothing like that," I said.

"I didn't think so," said Abe, immediately. "He's not the type. People think he is, but no, I do not think he is. So, what then? Was he drinking too much? That was it, I'm sure."

"No, he's cut way back, actually. Listen, Mr. Mazour, I can't..."

"He is cutting back?" he said, interrupting me. "That's _excellent_!" He clapped his hands together in his enthusiasm. "I knew he could. _He_ didn't know he could, but _I_ knew. I know things like that about people. So, it wasn't that, then. Ok. Hmm..." He stroked his beard in a show of contemplation. "Ah, I see. He didn't treat you right. Took you for granted. No appreciation, no compliments, nothing. Right? That's it?"

"He treated me fine," I said, feeling stubborn. He didn't "treat me right"? I remembered a million things at once: The gentle way he held me while I told him about what had happened to Carly. The faith and pride he'd had in my academic accomplishments. The paintings he'd done of me. The hugs, the kisses, the sweet things he'd say. The... cake. The cake he'd baked to trick me into eating. I had to just focus on that, just _focus_ on that. I had to remember him biting the other Sydney while a lurid smile of pleasure crossed her face... "Really, Mr. Mazour, I can't..."

"Well, then, what was the problem? He was treating you well, was a good boy, didn't cheat on you... What then?"

"I can't talk about this with you!"

"Why not? I am an old man now, but I have loved _well_ and _often_ in my life."

I buried my face in my hands. "Oh God, sir, please, don't tell me about your love life."

"Ah, but you can learn from my experience!"

"I really don't want to," I groaned. "Please, sir, _please_, just leave me alone."

"I loved a human girl once..." he said, with a happy sigh. "Ah, I was just a young man then..."

"Oh, eww, please, Mr. Mazour..."

"Or was she a dhampir? Now I think back on it, perhaps she was a dhampir. What was her name? Hmmm... She was lovely, anyway. Brown hair, I think. Or blonde, maybe." He lapsed into happy silence, apparently enjoying the memories of this woman whom he didn't seem able to remember.

Unable to resist, I asked, "Was it Rose's mother?"

"Oh, no!" He clapped his hands again in delight. "Janine! Now, she was another matter. _Is_ another matter! I still remember those long nights in Capadocia. Exploring the cave churches and fairy chimneys of Goreme under the light of the full moon... Her long red hair falling down her back... What a woman, what a woman. Even now, what she _does_ to me! You would not believe..."

Again, I covered my face with my hands. "Please," I said. "Please. _Please_. Stop talking."

"How I loved her back then! Ah... Of course, we should be talking about you, not me," he said, patting my leg. I tried not to shriek at the touch. "But my love affair with Janine was a long and beautiful story. So beautiful that nine months later, Rose came along!"

I ran my hands through my hair in exasperation. "Why are you torturing me? What do you want from me?"

"Nothing but your happiness," he said grandly. He affected an avuncular expression. "Tell Uncle Abe what happened. Tell me the whole story. What did Adrian do?"

"I have told you, over and over, that it's personal! Let it go!" I had to keep my temper around this man. He held too much power over me.

"Ohhhh," he said, still delighted. "_Sex_, then! I know a lot about sex. You can tell me all about it." He looked at me with an exaggerated expression of concern. "Was he not a gentleman to you?"

"OhmyGodwhywon'tyoushutup?" I said, in one gasp, leaning my head back and staring at the roof of the car.

"If he pushed himself on you, Sydney, tell me. I will tear his still-beating heart out of his chest and take a bite out of it in front of him, you know." I glanced at him and saw that he still had a wide smile on his face. Oddly enough, Abe's offer to defend my honor sort of touched me.

"He didn't do anything like that," I said, hiding a little smile.

"I didn't think he would," he said, pleasantly. "He's a good boy. I told him as much when he was dating my daughter. I also told him I'd string his intestines into a violin and play it at his funeral if he hurt Rose."

"Of course you did," I said, and sighed again.

"But he wasn't the right man for my Rose, you know. My daughter is a true Mazour!"

"I thought she was a Hathaway," I said. Why was I engaging him?

"Oh, she is. So much like her mother. I love that. But she is also a true daughter to me! A head-strong, heart-driven girl. She and Adrian had no balance. Now you two? Yes, I think is good. Good balance. I like it." He acted as if the matter were settled.

"Glad you approve," I said.

"I do," he said.

"You're probably the only one who does. _I_ don't even approve."

"But why not?"

"He and I are just too different. He's a Moroi, and I'm human. On top of that, I just can't be with someone like him. And I can't forgive him for what he did. And I'm not going to tell you what he did, so stop asking."

He sighed. "Listen, Sydney, will you take some advice from a man who knows a little thing or two about love?"

"Is saying 'no' even an option here?" I replied.

"Sometimes, love is difficult," he said grandly, ignoring what I had said.

"Really? That's your advice." I leaned my head back on the head-rest, settling in for the long haul.

"Be quiet, and listen to me, young woman. Love is difficult, but anger, that's easy. Sometimes it's easier to just get angry at someone. It's easy to walk around, feeling like you could spit fire from your eyes because you're so angry! Oh, I know that feeling. So angry! No room for love anymore... Am I right? Is that how it is for you now?"

"I'm not going to talk to you about this."

"Fine. I'll just make guesses. I think that you would rather be angry, because then you don't have to love anymore. Only you still do, I think."

"Are you done?" I asked.

"I guess so," he said.

"Then will you please, please, _please_ leave me alone?"

"Ok, ok," he said, in the air of one granting a favor.

"Thank you!"

"But first," he said, and I let out a sigh of exasperation. "First, because you are a little sad, I want to cheer you up. So I want to tell you that you are doing a good job here in Palm Springs. If you were my daughter, I'd be very proud of you."

"What did you just say?" I stared at him in disbelief.

"It occurs to me, you're the same age as my Rose. You could be my daughter, you know. You're the right age. You're not, of course. Or you'd be a dhampir. You're sure you're not a dhampir?"

"Definitely not!" I said. "And I'm pretty sure that my parents are my parents." He had to be messing with me. Moroi could always sense dhampirs.

"Hmm," he said, stroking his beard. "And I don't remember dating any human women around the time you would have been conceived. But still." He gave me a wide smile. "If you were my daughter, I would be very proud to be your father. Such a smart girl! So hard working! Not quite as 'asskicking' as Rose is, but still tough in your own way. Yes, you'd make a good Mazour. If I had a hundred children, you'd be my second favorite, after Rose of course."

"Of course," I said, rolling my eyes, but inside, I was... touched. My own father had never told me he was proud of me. And this weird Moroi gangster had to go and say it. It made me a little happy, even. Which is bizarre, I know. So, after a beat, I added a quiet, "Thanks, sir."

"You are _very_ welcome, young woman! And that's all I am wanting to say," he said, again patting my leg. "But you're ok otherwise? Getting enough to eat? You look a little too skinny."

"Why does everyone keep telling me that?"

"Everyone is telling you that?" he said, peering at me.

"Pretty much," I said.

"Well, there is only two possibilities that I am seeing. First, that there is something wrong with everyone else. Second, that there is something wrong with you. Those are it! Those are the possibilities! You should think about that. Along with the other things I said." He paused, then added: "Yes, I think that's good. You should think about it. You're good at thinking. Not like my Rose. She's not as much of a thinker."

"Are you going now?" I asked, as pleasantly as I could. "If you're finished talking at me?"

"Yes, yes, I am going now. But it was a pleasure to see you! Goodbye, young Sydney."

"Goodbye, sir."

"Remember what I said. Anger is easier than love, but it's a dead-end. Trust me. I _never_ get angry." He winked at me, then got out of the car and went back in the house, pausing to salute me before he went inside. I put my head down on the steering wheel for a moment, as softly as I could so as not to set off the horn.

What an exasperating person! Why did he say all those things to me? He didn't even make any sense.

_I thought he made a lot of sense_, said a familiar little voice in my head. I ignored it and got out my book again.

A little while later, Jill, Eddie, and Angeline came out of Clarence's house, accompanied by the monster, whose easy camaraderie with the other three made me a little jealous. He even smiled at Angeline, and I wanted to hit her with a big stick, like I had been practicing in self-defense class.

"Sydney," Jill said excitedly, as she climbed into the backseat, leaving the door open. "I have some of Adrian's cake for later." She held up a Tupperware container. "You've got to try some. It's called 'Death by Chocolate'. It's amazing."

"She won't want any," said the monster, who had apparently overheard her.

"How do you know _that_?" I asked. Why was I talking to him? I just couldn't help it.

"Because you are always on a diet for some reason." He looked at me. "I don't know why. You're beautiful, even if you are getting too thin," he added. "I wish you'd eat."

The words hung in the air. Nobody moved, not even Angeline or Eddie. I forced myself to breathe. What did that mean? Why was he saying I was beautiful? Didn't he hate me yet? What more did I have to do so he'd stop looking at me like that? It was like a stake to the heart.

Finally, I replied, "I'm not falling for that. You tricked me with that other cake. I'm not eating anything else you make."

"You're not falling for it?" Anger flashed across his face. "That's right, that's right. I'm a monster. I'm the witch from Hansel and Gretel." He moved quickly as lightening and yanked open my car door, then grabbed me by both shoulders, pulling me to face him. "Maybe I'll throw you in the oven," he said, his face inches from mine. "It's the kind of things monsters do." I turned my head to look around at Jill, Eddie, and Angeline, but they were all studiously looking the other direction.

"You can get out of my life," he continued, looking directly at me. It was like every nerve in my body was converging where his hands gripped my shoulders. "If you ever figure out..." His voice trailed off. Our eyes met, and I started to feel that drowning feeling again. I could smell his cologne, faintly. "If you ever figure out what you want from me you can come and tell me. And you know something? You owe me for the things you stole from me. Like my t-shirt. You owe me a replacement for that."

"What else did I steal?" I asked, my voice small. We were so close now.

"You know what you stole," he said. The world seemed to freeze in place. My heartbeats felt years apart. I could just lean forward, stretch my neck upwards a tiny bit, and we'd be... But he let go of my shoulders and took a step back. I let out a little gasp. "Go away, Sydney," he said. "I can't look at you. In fact, you can just get right out of my _life_." He put his hands on the car door to close it, then paused. "Are your hands out of the way?" he asked.

"Yes," I said, and the word came out as a whisper.

"Good," he said, and slammed the car door shut. Then he went back into the house, not saying goodbye to the others. I sat there stunned as everyone got into the car and buckled up.

Maybe Abe was right, I thought. Maybe anger was easy. _He_ sure made it look easy. And some of Rose's words came to me, as well. She had thought I should apologize for invading his privacy. Was he mad about that? If not, what was he mad about? _I_ was mad at _him_! Where did he get off thinking he could be mad at me?

_Irrational,_ said the Traitor, sarcastically. _Why would he be angry just because you keep calling him a monster? _

"He _is_ a monster," I answered her, mentally. "I have to focus on that. If I don't, I'll go back to him. And I'll get hurt really badly when … it ends."

_Oh, and you're not hurting now?_ the Traitor whispered.

I sighed, my face in my hands. This whole talking to myself thing was slightly worrying. And even more worrying than the fact that I was arguing with myself was the fact that I was routinely losing.

"Are you ok?" Jill asked, breaking the silence.

"I'm fine," I said. "Sorry you guys had to see that." That was the second time I'd apologized for arguing with the monster in front of them.

"I thought it was interesting," said Angeline. "Adrian sure doesn't like you much, does he?"

"Shut up, Angeline," said Eddie, forcefully, and at the same exact moment, Jill said, "Angeline, please."

"Thanks, guys," I said. "But it's fine. It's good." I started up the car. "That's probably the last time something like that will happen. Don't worry."

"Do I look worried?" Angeline said.

Apparently, she wasn't. She was all aflutter on the car ride home, not noticing the somber mood that radiated from the rest of us. "Adrian likes me," she bragged. "He needs a real woman in his life, and I think I fit the bill." She grinned. "I'm used to relationships with Moroi, and even a tainted one like him is ok by me if he's _that_ hot."

"What did Rose's father want to talk to you about?" Jill asked, obviously trying to change the subject, not aware that she was just continuing the same one.

"Oh, just business," I said. I missed the days that I could go all day without lying to anyone.

"Oh," Jill replied, and the conversation died out, leaving space for Angeline to brag more. I tuned her out.

When we got back to school, I elected to just grab a few pieces of fruit from the salad bar and sneak them out to my room because I just couldn't face dinner. I sat up for a while, reading _Anna Karenina_. It kind of suited my mood, and I kind of liked reading in Russian. It forced me into a different mental state, in a way. But sooner or later it was time for bed, and I had to face the awful emptiness and silence of that time before sleep. I hated the silence, the darkness, the way that there was nothing else to do but think. It seemed as if that time, lately, had stretched to fill almost the entire day.

As I crawled into bed, fragments of the day's conversations came back to taunt me. Was anger really easy? It didn't _feel_ easy. My anger at the monster felt like a burning pit in my stomach, keeping me from eating, keeping me from sleeping or thinking straight. And yet... wasn't that burning pit also the fuel that kept me going? I pictured an old-fashioned train with someone in the engine car shoveling coal into a furnace. I imagined that it was a girl who held the shovel. She smiled at me, and I saw the golden lily tattoo on her cheek. I shook my head, trying to clear the image from my mind's eye.

It was replaced by a mental picture of the monster, shaking me by the shoulders and telling me to get out of his life. What if his anger fueled him far enough to turn to Angeline? It wasn't out of character for him. Unbidden, the thought came to my mind of the two of them wrapped up in an embrace. She could take my place in the silky bed, only in reality, not in dreams. She'd let him bite her, for sure. She was used to that sort of thing. But he couldn't really fall for her, could he? She was so earthy, so... _trashy_.

I lay there for a while in the darkness, holding the t-shirt to me for comfort. I pictured him in his apartment. I wondered if he was asleep right now, or maybe lying awake in that silky bed. Was he as angry as he seemed? I wondered if he was thinking of me, or of her. If he was asleep, was he dreaming of one of us?

His room. His bed.

Him.

And then...

I looked up suddenly. The sound of the ocean surrounded me.

_Updated: September 8, 2012_


	16. I: The Other Sydney II

**Chapter 15: The Other Sydney (Part II)**

I took a deep breath as I looked around. I was standing in a long hallway with an ugly cracked linoleum floor and flickering fluorescent lights. The walls were pale green, and each of the many doors I could see was locked with a heavy metal padlock. I had never been here before, but I could guess where I was. This was clearly a mental hospital.

Or rather, this was a dream of a mental hospital. Everything was insubstantial, vaporous, and the perspective was wrong, as if I were looking at a painting of a movie set, rather than a real place. I realized that I had found my way into a dream – not a spirit-dream, but a dream-dream. And I was pretty sure I knew whose.

The sound of struggle down the hall drew my attention. A crowd of white coated people surrounded one man. Their voices were indistinct from where I stood, but they were getting closer, apparently dragging the man down the hall. I conjured a screen to hide behind and watched them through a peephole as they approached. There were maybe seven or eight of the white-coated figures, and they were almost faceless. Really, they were just sketches of people – just white-coated, doctor-like blobs. As they passed, I could see their patient more clearly. He was tall and slender, with messy brown hair, and his face was one I knew, almost as well as I knew my own. His green eyes were wild, and his arms were bound in a straight jacket. Following the struggling crowd was a woman, walking calmly, her low heels clacking against the floor. She was a skinny blonde in a professional looking pantsuit. As she passed me, I saw her golden lily tattoo glitter in the flickering fluorescent light.

"Calm down, Lord Ivashkov," said the doctor blobs. "We're here to help you."

"Yes, monster," said the other Sydney, coldly. "Calm down."

One of the other doctor blobs fumbled with a padlock on one of the doors, then pulled it open with his mushy hands. "In you go," he called, happily. "Into the cell, m'Lord." He giggled.

"Let me go!" the vampire screamed, thrashing in their grip. "Please, I'm trying my best..." But the nightmarish doctors ignored him, propelling him into the room. I saw the other Sydney step inside and close the door behind them.

I stood in the hallway a moment, listening to the far off sound of the ocean. I knew the sound was coming from a real bedroom in Palm Springs, where a frightened person was probably tossing and turning in fear in his bed. "I should go," I thought to myself. "I don't belong here. This is just a nightmare, and it's not even mine." I tried to banish the thought of the man in his bed in Palm Springs, sweat pouring from him, his limbs twisted up in his silk sheets... But then I heard screaming coming from behind the door, screaming and crying and pleading. It went on for a long moment, and I found myself blinking back tears. In that moment, the decision was made. _No one_ should suffer like this, not even a vampire. I was going to try to help. After all, I was a problem-solver, and this was a problem.

As in the previous dream, walking in this dream was like walking through fine dry sand. It was slow-going, but I fought through the strangely pliant dream space to get to the door behind which the vampire screamed. I gazed at the lock on the door, trying to think of how to get through. The padlock was huge and intimidating, but I realized I didn't have to worry about a lock in a place like this. I simply coaxed the wall apart at a seam and crawled through, creating another screen in the room for me to hide behind.

I found myself in a small room with dingy padded walls and a tiny, barred window. The vampire cowered on the ground in one corner, struggling in his straight-jacket. The doctor blobs surrounded him, their shapes indistinct, and the other Sydney stared down at him coldly from where she sat on a high stool, her slender legs crossed elegantly. Aside from the stool, there was no furniture in the room.

"So, Lord Ivashkov," I heard a doctor blob say. "We've offered you a choice. Which do you choose?"

"I counsel a lobotomy," said another blob.

"I think Tarasov Prison," said a third indistinct shape.

"Or both!" called another doctor blob, and the rest of them laughed in agreement. Behind my screen, I balled my hands up into fists. I wanted to tear their mushy faces into pieces.

"Please," the vampire pleaded, his green eyes shining. "I don't want either option. Please. I'll be good."

"Sorry, monster," said the other Sydney, as she towered over him."You can't be good. You're just a monster."

"I'm not a monster," he screamed. "You know me. Don't say that."

"Monster, monster!" the doctor blobs said in unison. "No good! No good!" Their horrible whining voices filled me with disgust. I found myself wondering what would happen if I hit them with a stick. Would it just get caught in their doughy bodies?

"I won't use any more spirit," the vampire cried. "I'll keep the darkness under control. I won't let it drive me crazy."

"You can't control yourself," the other Sydney sneered. "We all know that. And you're already crazy. That's why you're here. And _I hate you_."

Something caught in my throat. Is that what I seemed like to him? I felt like the bottom had dropped out of my heart. What I was watching was intolerable. I had to stop this, or change it, or... something. But I knew that I couldn't risk him seeing me here. How could I explain my presence? I had no excuse for spying on his dreams. He'd never forgive me.

Inspiration struck me suddenly, and I reached out with my mind to one of the doctor blobs. It took almost no effort to move this barely sketched figure. I made his puppet mouth say, "Perhaps we've been hasty."

The other doctors cried out in disagreement. "No, no, no," one said. "We must act quickly." Another one cackled, "Lord Monster is going to be cut up to little pieces to make him better."

I seized control of a different doctor puppet. "No, no, let's think more," I made him say. "Maybe we should let him go."

"Yes, we should let him go," my first puppet agreed.

The other doctor blobs chorused disapproval. "No, no, no," they chanted. One said, "We're going to cut him up then lock the pieces away." Another spoke. "He's broken and no one wants him."

Their captive had stopped struggling. Even from where I hid, I could see the defeat in him, could see a few tears trickling down his cheeks.

The other Sydney grinned and said, "_I_ certainly don't want him. Lock him away! He's a broken monster."

The blobs chanted, "Lock him away! Cut him up! He's a broken monster!"

I tried to fight them with the doctor-puppets that were under my control, but their feeble puppet voices were drowned out by the indeterminate masses. I reached out for more puppets to control, trying to turn the tide, but as I grabbed for one of the blobs, the others under my control would melt away, or blend with one of the enemy blobs. It was like trying to shape a melting scoop of ice cream.

The other Sydney's voice cut through the muddle. "You _monster_!" she said, loudly and cruelly. "I don't want you any more. I'm scared of you, and I hate you. You told me to get out of your life. So, I'm kicking you out of mine. Monster, monster, monster!"

"Monster, monster, monster," agreed most of the doctor blobs.

On the floor, my vampire started to cry again. "Please," he said. "Let me go. I'll be good. I'll take the medicine this time. I'll be good."

"Not good enough," said the other Sydney.

"Not good enough," echoed the doctor blobs.

"You're crazy now," said the other Sydney. "Too much spirit, too little man inside the monster. There's a place for broken monsters like you: Tarasov!"

"Or the operating table," said one of the doctor blobs.

"Operate!" the rest agreed. "Operate on the broken monster!"

I looked over at the vampire crying on the floor, and stifled a sob of my own. I had to stop this. It was becoming clear that the center of the attack was the other Sydney, and it was time to take her on. I had to get closer first, though. I pulled on the floor like I was pulling on a rug, bringing the rest of the room closer to me. When the other Sydney had gotten close enough, I reached out to her. She was more solid than the doctor blobs had been, but still, I could take control of her and move her like a marionette. "I changed my mind," I made her say. "We should let him go."

"We'll never let him go," shouted the disapproving doctor blobs.

"No, we should," I made her say, as she got down off her high stool. "He's fine. We should let him go."

"We'll never let him go," said the doctor blobs again. "We'll cut him up. We'll lock him up."

"You'll have to go through me," said the Sydney puppet. I made her crouch down by the vampire, made her put her arm around him.

"Are you on my side now, Sydney?" the vampire said, leaning his head on her shoulder. The note of hope in his voice was heart-breaking to me.

"Yes, of course I'm on your side," I made her say. "I'm sorry I've been mean to you. I don't want you to be frightened."

"Be frightened!" said the doctor blobs. "We won't let you go."

"I'm here for you," I made the other Sydney say, then I used her puppet hands to stroke his hair. "It's ok."

"They're going to cut me to pieces," he said, his voice hoarse. "I've gone crazy. They're going to lock me away."

"It's just spirit," the puppet said. "Don't worry." I willed her to kiss his forehead, and I felt my own lips tingle as she made the contact.

"Stay with me, Sydney," the vampire said, rubbing her shoulder with his head. His hands were still bound in the straight-jacket, and that was all he could do to caress her. I fought back another sob.

"I will," she replied, and she reached behind him to unlatch the binding of his straight-jacket. "But not here. Let's go home." Her hands worked busily, undoing the many clasps and folds of the jacket. "Let's go home together. Don't be frightened."

"I'm not frightened," said my vampire. "Not anymore." With her help, he shook the straight-jacket off of him.

The other Sydney looked around at the doctor blobs."We're going now," she said. "He's mine, not yours."

"Cut him up!" said the doctor blobs. "That'll fix him for sure."

My vampire reached for the other Sydney and took her in his arms. "I'm here for you," she said to him, and kissed him. I wasn't controlling her anymore, I realized – the dream was taking care of itself. I watched her kissing him, fascinated. Is that what we had looked like when we used to do that? They looked sweet, like a couple in a movie.

As they kissed, the hospital and the doctor blobs faded away. I gripped the screen in front of me, mentally and physically, needing it to hide behind. After a few moments, the other Sydney and the vampire were all that was left, and as they continued to kiss, the room reformed itself. Soon, we were all in the vampire's bedroom, complete with his silky bed, but the strange dimensions and unclear perspective marked this as a dream still. Gravity lurched, and the room fell sideways for a moment as the happy couple floated over to the bed, and I held on to the floor to keep from falling with them, keeping myself hidden behind the screen.

For a moment I was afraid that I was going to witness another scene like I had seen in the first dream, but they soon stopped kissing and just sat there on the edge of the bed, holding each other.

"Please don't go, Sydney," the vampire said after a few moments.

"I won't, monster," said the other Sydney. "Don't worry."

"What did you call me?" he asked, a note of panic in his voice.

"I called you monster," said the other Sydney, sweetly. "That's what you are."

"Don't say that," he pleaded. "You know my name. Say it, please."

"Monster," cooed the other Sydney.

"Please," he said. "Please don't call me that." The room shimmered. The lights began to flicker and the carpet showed shadowy lines, like linoleum tiles. In the distance, I could hear voices, soft as the wind, almost hidden by the ongoing sound of the ocean. "Monster," the voices whispered. "Put you away. Cut you up."

I again reached towards the other Sydney with my mind. "Honey," I made her say. "Sweetheart. It's ok. I won't leave you. Don't be frightened."

"No," he said. "This isn't right. You never call me things like that. Please, Sydney, call me by my name. Be _you_, please. All I want is _you_."

The chanting grew louder, more insistent. "Monster. Put you away. Cut you up."

I drew in a breath. The look on his face... the terror, the longing...

"_Adrian_," I made the other Sydney say. "Adrian, it's ok."

The look of relief and joy on his face was unmistakeable. The room began to lose its hospital attributes, and the chanting stopped. "Oh, please, Sydney. Say it again," he said, and they lay down together in the bed. He began to kiss her neck, and a shiver ran through me as I felt a trace of the touch on my own skin.

"Adrian," we said, the other Sydney and I, as I reached out with her hands and my mind to take away some of his darkness. It was just natural to want to straighten and reorder the off-kilter spot in his mind. I hadn't done this in weeks, and so much had built up inside of him. He must have been terrified, especially since he hadn't been resorting to his usual crutch of alcohol. I felt him clutch at the other Sydney in surprise as we healed him. "I'm here, Adrian," we said to him.

He sat up in the bed. "Who's there?" he called, looking towards the corner of the room where I crouched behind my screen. I clapped my hand over my mouth, realizing that I had spoken aloud.

I saw him look at the other Sydney more closely. She began to fade, and he tried to clutch at her.

"No," he said, frantically. "Don't be a dream. Don't go. Please..."

The room began to feel more solid, and the screen hiding me started to disappear. My heart started pounding harder than ever. I knew that I had to wake up before he saw me, before he knew that I had invaded his dreams again.

"Sydney?" he said, getting out of bed as the other Sydney faded completely. He was moving in slow motion across the room. I focused on the distance between us, trying to make it longer, trying to make it harder to transverse. I had to buy myself some time.

I ducked down and drew a square in the soft ground underneath me with my finger, then focused my energy on it. "Trapdoor," I thought to it. "You're a trapdoor. Now open." I pushed on it, trying to use the screen for some sort of traction, though grabbing it was like grabbing melting butter. "Open!" I thought to the door, once more.

He was almost to my corner now. I gave one last push and finally, the trapdoor opened. I reeled from vertigo as I fell through the sky and landed softly in a pile of pine needles. I looked up above me and saw a wooden trapdoor, hanging in the air below some low-hanging bows. As I watched, it disappeared.

I stood up and looked around my beautiful pine forest. That now-familiar gluey feeling permeated everything, like it always did when I was in a dream that I was creating all by myself, but it was easier to maneuver through this time. I was able to walk upright, rather than crawl, to the tree that led back to my room at Amberwood. As I had done before, I focused my energy on the tree and on getting back to my body, then closed my eyes. When I opened them, I was looking at the door that led back to myself. I turned the knob and pulled as hard as I could. I had to lean with all my weight but I got the door open, and I saw the real Sydney asleep in bed. She was crying again, as she had been the last time I had seen her through the door in the tree, and she was clutching the t-shirt between white-knuckled fingers.

I didn't know what to say to her. I sort of wanted to tell her to stop crying, but I was crying too, and it seemed hypocritical. So I just stepped through the door, into myself...

… And woke up in my room in Amberwood. My heart was still beating a mile a minute. I sniffed and wiped the tears off my cheeks with the t-shirt, trying to calm down. I had just been through the most terrifying nightmare of my life, and it hadn't even been mine. I wondered if he dreamed that kind of dream often, as I often dreamed of the alchemists coming to take me away to a re-education center. I realized that both of us feared a sort of mental intervention.

_Something else you have in common_, the Traitor pointed out. I was too tired to disagree with her, and anyway, what was the point? She was right.

I lay down again, wondering if I'd ever fall back asleep. Then I almost jumped out of my skin when my phone rang. I didn't even bother looking at the number of the incoming call – I already knew who it was. I answered the phone, trying to make my voice sound thick with sleep.

"Yes?" I said.

"Was that you?" a familiar voice asked.

"What?" I asked. "What are you talking about?"

"Was it you behind that screen? I thought I heard your voice, Sydney."

"I really don't know what you're talking about," I lied.

"I heard you," he said. "I caught your scent. I felt you reach into my mind... I was so sure it was you."

"I don't want to sound rude," I said. "But I really don't know what you mean. And you kind of woke me up, so..."

"Please don't lie to me," he said. I heard the entreaty in his voice. "Please, I can't take it if you lie. Please. I'm not going crazy, right? I heard you. I _felt_ you."

"I'm sure you're not going crazy," I said. "You were probably just dreaming."

He laughed, a harsh sound. "_Just_ dreaming? Are you and I ever _just_ dreaming?"

"I guess sometimes we are," I said.

There was a long pause.

"Maybe," he said finally, then added, a little contritely: "I'm sorry I woke you up. Goodnight."

"Wait," I said suddenly.

"Yes?" he drawled. "Something to add?"

"Just... I wanted to ask you something."

"What?"

I opened my mouth. I wanted to ask him so many things. I wanted to know how his classes were going. I wanted to know if he was sleeping at night. I wanted to know if his mother had written again from prison. I wanted to know if he missed me. I wanted to know if he was mad at me. "Are you..." I said, and trailed off.

"Am I what?" His voice was deep, low, sweet.

"Are you ok?" It wasn't quite what I wanted to ask, but it was half-way there. There was a long silence on the line."Hello?" I said.

"I'm here," he said. "I just don't know how to answer that. I guess I'll try a novel approach and tell the truth. Not really. I'm... better after that dream, somehow, but no, I'm not really ok. But I'm working on it. You?"

"Everything is under control," I said.

"Does that mean you're ok?"

"I guess," I said.

"That's good." There was a pause, then he said, "I miss you."

The words were on my tongue: _I miss you too_. I fought them, focusing on everything I could that fueled my anger. I thought about the cake, and him biting the other Sydney, but both these events seemed meaningless compared to the pain I had felt coming from him in the dream. I wanted to be back there in that dream, and I wanted to reach out to him this time. I wanted to brush the other Sydney aside and take her place.

_In which dream? _the Traitor asked me. _The one tonight, or the first one? _

My stomach lurched.

"Hello?" said the voice on the other end of the line.

"I have to go," I said.

"I know," he said. "That's kind of what you do. Good night, Sydney."

I couldn't trust my voice enough to say anything back, so I just hung up. Then I whispered to the t-shirt that was clutched in my hands: "Good night."

_Updated: September 8, 2012_


	17. I: Traction Part 1

_Revised fairly significantly, September 12, 2012. _

**Chapter 16: Traction part 1 **

I barely slept Tuesday night, but somehow I managed to function the next day. It was a good thing that, with all my alchemist training, I was a master of keeping a neutral face and performing according to expectations. I slid through my day, feeling again as if I were sliding through life, sliding through a frictionless environment. Classes, practice, dinner, studies.

But in the background of all of it was the memory of the anguished cry of frightened person, and a voice saying, "Be _you_, please. All I want is _you_." My go-to vision of the vampire in bed with the other Sydney was replaced with the other Sydney who mocked and tortured a slumped crying figure on the ground. A figure who only wanted me. The real me.

This was dangerous. My resolve was dissolving like sugar in a cup of hot coffee. If he were to approach me now, if I had to look at those green eyes right now, if he asked me to reconsider right now, I wouldn't be able to resist, and then I'd be back in the same situation as I had been, falling more and more deeply every day with someone whose world simply wasn't mine, finding myself further and further from who I was obligated to be. My mind scrambled to find a solution to this problem. Only what would it be? I had to get him out of my mind.

"Only not right now," I whispered, as I fell into bed and found the familiar fabric of the soft t-shirt under my pillow. "I'll get him out of my mind tomorrow."

The next day, Wednesday, when I entered the dining hall for lunch, I didn't see any of my "family" members. It was just as well; the estrangement between me and that vampire had created an ongoing chill between me and Jill and Eddie, despite their sporadic encouragement and support. I sat down by myself, but only had enough time to spread my napkin over my lap and stare for a moment at my salad before I heard a pair of cheerful voices. I looked up to see Julia and Kristina sitting down with me.

"Hey, stranger," said Kristina. "We haven't really seen you in ages."

"Hi, girls," I said.

"Where have you been hiding yourself?" Julia asked. Part of me wanted to answer that I haven't been hungry enough for the dining hall, that I couldn't even handle the smell of the cooked food without wanting to vomit. I wanted to answer that human companionship was leaving something to be desired. But I just said that I'd been busy on a project for Ms. Terwiliger, and my friends let out groans of annoyance on my behalf.

"She's nuts," said Kristina. "And not quite... normal, you know?"

"There's a rumor she's a witch," Julia giggled.

"And that she uses spells to tell if anyone cheats," Kristina added.

"You shouldn't joke about things like that," I said, more harshly than I had intended.

"Sorry," Julia answered, chastened.

"Um, yeah, sorry," Kristina agreed. "I forgot that you actually like her."

I realized that they thought I had been defending Ms. Terwiliger out of loyalty, rather than because I found the accusation of witchcraft particularly heinous. They couldn't possibly know how I felt about magic. In fact, I wasn't sure how _I_ felt, myself. Confusing the issue was the fact that I knew that Ms. Terwiliger actually _was_ a witch. I decided to let the issue go.

"Sorry, too," I said. "Let's not worry about it. How are you two?"

"Oh, great," Julia answered. "Omigod, I have to tell you..." And she launched into a story that I couldn't quite pay attention to, about someone getting a bad haircut and someone else fixing it. I didn't really know either girl, and therefore didn't really care. But I nodded and smiled, making the occasional non-committal statement. When Julia was done with that story, Kristina piped up with another one. There seemed to be an endless supply of school gossip at any given time. I wondered if I really did miss out on much, being home-schooled. After a while, I gave up on trying to actually pay attention. I let their conversation wash over me, nodding occasionally.

I was staring down at my salad when Kristina said my name loudly and I looked up.

"I said your name like ten times," she said. "What is going on with you?"

"I guess my mind is elsewhere," I said, toying with a leaf of lettuce.

"Obviously," Julia said.

"Ok," Kristina said, laying her hands down on the table, palm-up. "So just tell us. What's his name?"

"What?" I dropped my fork in surprise.

"Look, it's obvious that there's a guy involved in this," said Julia. "Kristina and I just want to know what his name is."

"Do we know him?" Kristina asked.

"Does he go here?" Julia asked.

"Really, there's no guy. I'm single," I stated. Which was true.

"Well, maybe you are _now_," Julia said. "But it's totes obvs that there _was_ a guy. A _significant_ guy."

Kristina agreed. "Totes obvs."

"Totes obvs?" I repeated, as if repeating words in a foreign language. Sometimes I felt like their slang was just that.

"Totally obvious," Kristina, carefully enunciating the words.

"I figured," I said. "But what makes you think..." I trailed off.

Kristina rolled her eyes. "Like we said, it was obvious. You spent a couple months just always in a good mood."

"You'd always be humming something to yourself," Julia added.

"Humming?" I said, in a half-whisper.

"You know. That song? I don't know what it was, but it was like this." She hummed a few bars that I recognized as being from Daniel Pinkham's Wedding Cantata, a modern classical work that set the words of the Song of Solomon to music. I had been humming that? Often enough that people noticed it? Often enough that she could now hum it too?

I was still considering that when Kristina put in, "You had a huge smile on your face all the time. It made you seem more outgoing and relaxed. "

"Really?" I said.

"Oh sure. Why do you think that people started including you in things all the time?"

I thought about that, too. It was true that I had been invited to a lot of parties in the past few months, whereas the first few months I had been at Amberwood, there had been no invites at all. I had just thought that the school's social calender picked up in the fall. But what if it was me that was the variable here? I tried to school my features back into a more neutral expression. "That doesn't mean I was dating someone," I said.

"Well, maybe not," said Julia, her eyes sparkling. "But there was that time I saw the hickeys on your neck. I felt a blush rise to my cheeks.

"Oh-em-gee, really?" Kristina squealed. "I didn't see that."

"Trust me. Hickeys. All here and here." Julia put her hand to her neck, demonstrating where she'd seen the marks on me.

"They weren't..." I started to say.

Julia cut me off. "Come on, Sydney. They were hickeys."

"So, who is he, and what happened between you two?" Kristina tapped the table in front of her, as if I should put the information there. "Because obviously you two broke up or something. You've been miserable for weeks. 'Fess up. We can't help you unless you do."

"I'm fine," I said. "Everything's under control."

"This is _fine_?" Kristina commented. She gestured to me, my probably exhausted looking face, my stringy hair that I had no energy to brush or style. She even pointed to my mostly uneaten salad. "You're not taking care of yourself. You don't eat. You look exhausted, so I'm guessing you don't sleep."

"You dropped the ball in practice the other day like, five times," Julia added. After a pause, she added, "I mean, like literally. You dropped the actual volleyball."

"And the other day in history class you said that the capital of Portugal was Porto," said Kristina.

I had no memory of that. "It's Lisbon," I said.

"Yeah, we know," said Kristina. "But that's not what you said the other day."

"And if you're getting something wrong that even _we_ know..." Julia left the thought unfinished, but the point was clear.

There was a pause. I looked from one interested face to the other. I didn't know what to say.

"Look, you don't _have_ to tell us, but you might feel better if you talk about it," Julia said, gently.

"Lately it seems like all I _do_ is talk about it," I found myself saying. "Everywhere I go, people want to offer me advice about my love-life or something. Jill, Eddie, Rose, Sonya..."

"Who are Rose and Sonya?" Julia asked.

I bit my lip. "Rose is a friend of mine from... home. And so is Sonya, I guess. It's hard to explain."

"Are they like, more cousins?" Kristina asked. "You have a huge family. Are you guys Mormon or something?"

"No," I said, laughing.

"Cool," said Julia. "Because my parents would never let me marry a Mormon. And wow, your brother is hot."

"He is, right?" agreed Kristina. "You can just tell by how he is on the basketball court and stuff that he'd probably be... agile in other areas." She giggled.

"Wait, you're talking about Eddie?" Julia said. "I was talking about that other brother of hers, the older one. Adrian, I think his name is."

"Adrian's cute too," said Kristina. "But you can have him if I can have Eddie."

"Oooh," said Julia. "Sounds like a plan." They giggled.

"Then we'd be your sisters too, Sydney," Kristina said. "And your family would get even bigger!"

"Are you guys seriously interested in my brothers?" I asked. I felt a flash of jealousy run through me. Eddie was one thing, but... I didn't let myself finish the thought.

"We're just kidding," said Kristina. "I mean, Eddie is super hot, but I kind of get the feeling he isn't interested in dating anyone right now." She paused, biting on the wrong end of her plastic fork. "Is he... you know... straight?" she asked, finally.

"Yes," I said.

"Not that there's anything wrong with being gay or anything," said Julia, quickly.

"No, there isn't," I said, "but he isn't. Trust me. He just... he has really strong feelings for a girl who..." My mind raced for an appropriate lie. "A girl back home. He is still in love with her."

"Ohhh," Julia and Kristina said in unison.

"That explains a lot," Kristina added. "But anyway, we got off track. We don't want to talk about your _brothers_."

"Right now, anyway," Julia said, quietly. "Maybe later."

"Yeah, we just want you to tell us about your _guy_," said Kristina. "And don't say there isn't one because like I said, the whole school noticed the change in you. Everyone was trying to figure out who you could be dating."

The whole school? How did rumors like this get started? It reminded me of when Jill got the nickname "Vampire Girl." Sometimes rumors were oddly on the nose, I realized. It seemed hopeless to deny it, so instead, I decided to do some form of damage control. "Ok, there was a guy." Jill and Kristina let out exclamations. "But there isn't much to tell," I added quickly. "He's... he's a friend of the family. We sort of dated for a while, yes. But I called it off because we're just too different."

"Meaning..." Julia made a rolling gesture with her hands, encouraging me to continue talking.

"Meaning he's just different."

"Different howwww?" Kristina prompted.

"He's sort of..." I couldn't exactly say that he was different in terms of the extent to which he drank blood. What _could_ I say? I began to speak, not even sure what was going to come out of my mouth. "He's charismatic, you know?" I stammered. "And really good looking. And girls are drawn to him." I saw Julia open her mouth to speak, and I cut her off. "No, he didn't cheat on me. It's just that... He could have anyone, and he would be happier with a girl who was more of a party girl, you know? I knew he that eventually he'd want someone a little more... exciting."

It was true. How on earth could I compare with the girls he'd known before me? Beautiful, skinny, sensual, non-human girls. Girls who were fun at parties. Girls who laughed and danced, girls who drank and smoked, girls who dressed up and slept around. The vampire wanted fun, alcohol, sex, blood. I was sure of it. He might have been all affection when we had been together, but really, how long could I really have kept someone like him happy? I felt tears come to my eyes again, but I was determined to save this. It wasn't about him, right? It was about me. "I broke it off because I didn't to want to change," I said. "I didn't want to be _that_ girl, the one who changes to please a guy."

"Of course," said Kristina, soothingly. "It was a good call, then. What an asshole! And who wouldn't think you were exciting? You're plenty exciting."

"And cute," said Julia. "You're so skinny! I wish I had your self-control." She and Kristina exchanged glances, and I could swear that Kristina gave Julia a sort of quelling look.

"And smart, and nice," Kristina added, emphatically. "And good at everything. If he didn't appreciate you, then he can go die in a ditch, for all I care. It doesn't matter if he's good-looking and charismatic." A smile twisted up one corner of her mouth. "So he's single now? What's his name? You still didn't say."

"It doesn't matter," I said, seeing her plans forming and wanting to nip them in the bud. "He's in the past."

"That's the right attitude!" said Julia, cheerfully.

"Good," said Kristina. "He's in the past. And now all you need to do is move on."

"I'm trying," I said, then was embarrassed at the way my voice had caught on the words. "I want to move on. But I can't seem to. I can't move at all. It's like... I can't get any traction."

"Like those dreams where you can't walk?" Julia said. "I know what you mean." I tried not to react to her comment. Dreams in which I couldn't walk were kind of becoming my home-away-from-home.

"There's only one solution to all this," Kristina said.

My ears perked up. "You have a solution?"

"Yes," Kristina said, triumphantly. "You should go out with someone else."

"What?" I sputtered.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Julia said.

"No, she totally should," Kristina replied, with a little heat. "It's a great idea. A date will cheer her up."

"Like with who?" Julia asked.

"Like Bryan," Kristina suggested. "Remember? He tried to ask her out a few months ago, and she didn't notice."

"Oh yeah, I remember that. That was hilarious." Julia giggled.

"So you should ask him out," Kristina said to me. "Ask him to see a movie with you or something. He'll totally say yes."

"I don't want to do that," I said. "I hardly know him."

"You don't have to know him," Kristina said. "You get to know him better on the date."

"Is there anyone else you'd rather go out with, maybe?" Julia asked.

"No," I answered, slowly.

"Trey, maybe?" Julia suggested. "I know you two are friends. Or sort-of."

That was just it, though. Trey was a friend. It was hard to articulate exactly why, but I didn't want to bring him into all of this. It didn't seem fair. I thought about trying to explain this to the girls, but settled for saying that he was just a friend.

"Well, then just go out with Bryan," Kristina repeated. "At least you know he'll say yes, so you have nothing to lose."

"I don't know," I said. "What's the point?"

"You just get yourself out there," she replied. "You remind yourself that you're still young and that there are other fish in the sea and that your heart will go on and stuff."

"Her heart will go on? Fish in the sea? Is this Titanic?" Julia asked, then giggled again. "Sorry, I just had to say it." We stared at her. "Sorry," she said, in a little voice.

"Sooo?" Kristina asked me.

"Let me think," I said. "I mean, nothing else has worked at all." It was true. Hadn't I just decided yesterday that I needed a solution to this problem? Abe had been right. Anger _was_ so much easier than any other feeling. Now that my anger had abated so much, affection and concern for the vampire was leaving the door open to pain, gut-wrenching pain. It was becoming a more dire situation by the hour. I needed another plan. And this was as good as any.

_Sure, why don't you do it? _the Traitor opined, her voice dripping with sarcasm. _You've developed a habit of not doing the things you desperately want to do, so why not complete the picture and do something you don't want to do at all? It makes perfect sense. _

"No," I told myself, internally. "It isn't about that. It's about facing facts. This is what I'm signing up for. Human dates. Bryan is cute, I guess. He's my age, he's my species, he goes to my school..."

_And, because you don't care about him at all, he can't possibly hurt you,_ the Traitor added. _How ideal. _

"Why did you just roll your eyes?" Julia asked. "Did we say something... eye-rollable?"

"I guess I was just thinking to myself," I said. "I wasn't directing it at you two."

"Ok," Julia said, obviously not quite convinced.

"I guess it's not a terrible idea," I said. "It might work."

"It would totally work," Kristina agreed.

"You deserve a good guy," Julia said. Did she mean Bryan? Or just in general?

"You really do," Kristina said.

"I guess so," I said. Deep inside, the Traitor muttered, _No. You made your bed. It's like you said: boring human guys for you from now on. Guys who make you feel nothing at all. You'll never again feel what _he _made you feel. That's what you deserve. _"You know," I said out loud,"I think I'll do it. I'll ask him out."

"Wow," Julia said. "I can't believe Kristina convinced you. Are you sure?"

"Of course she's sure," Kristina said. "She knows a good idea when she hears one. She's smart. Now, Sydney, next time you see him on his own, go ask him."

I looked over at the side of the dining hall where most of the jocks sat together. I saw Bryan sitting there, laughing with a few of his friends. We made eye contact and he smiled at me.

"Why wait?" I said. Now that I was resolved, I didn't want to waste time. "I'll go now."

"Right now? He's with all his friends." Kristina looked sort of aghast.

"What's the problem?" What did his friends have to do with anything?

Kristina sighed. "What did they teach you at home school, anyway?"

"Science, math, and languages, mostly," I said, standing up. "I'll be back in a minute or two."

The girls hesitantly wished me luck, and I walked the short distance to the table at which Bryan was sitting with his friends. "Hey, Bryan?" I said.

The babble at his table died out. "Hi, Sydney," Bryan answered, obviously surprised that I was talking to him.

"Are you doing anything Friday night?" I asked.

There was a long pause before he answered. Talk at some neighboring tables had quieted, as well, and I felt as if half the cafeteria were staring at me. "No real plans yet," he said finally. "Why?"

I went on, hoping that as the conversation continued fewer people would pay attention to it. "I was wondering if you'd like to see a movie with me," I said.

The guys at Bryan's table all sort of looked at each other, and a low sound, sort of like "oooooh!" spread out amongst them. It was hard to define where it started, or who had said it. I almost wanted to give up the venture right then and there, but on the other hand, I was determined. Clearly, there was some sort of misunderstanding afoot, and I aimed to circumvent it.

"To clarify," I went on, "I'm proposing a date. I know it goes against established paradigms for a girl to ask, but as I understand it, it's becoming more acceptable, so I'm relying on a more modern interpretation of the dating contract. So, anyway, do you want to go?" Silence greeted me, at least at first.

Then Bryan took a deep breath. "Sure," he said. "What movie?"

"It doesn't matter much," I said. "You can pick it, as long as it isn't a horror movie. Or … anything involving vampires."

"How about _Mission: Explosion Identity: Part II: The Explodening_? Unless you already saw it."

"I haven't," I said. "So that sounds great."

"I'll find out the times and stuff and text you on Friday," he said, looking pleased. "Oh hey, can I have your number?" He held out his phone for me to program it in.

We exchanged numbers and said our see-you-laters, and then I went back to the girls' table. They were staring at me as if they had never seen anything so strange.

"So?" Kristina asked.

"We're going out on Friday," I answered.

"Cool! What are you guys doing?"

"We're going to see the new _Mission: Explosion Identity_ movie," I said.

"Oh, that's supposed to be... Well, it's supposed to have lots of explosions," Kristina said.

Julia giggled. "I can't believe you just did that," she said.

"Well, what's the big deal?" I asked.

"I don't know. I admire your chutzpah, especially to do that in front of his friends. Guys are at their worst when they're all together in a group like that."

"That may be true," I said, thinking about it. "That's a phenomenon observed in many mammalian species, including chimpanzees, which share a great deal of our DNA. But I seem to have been spared the worst of the male group dynamic today." Julia and Kristina stared at me. "I mean, they didn't really say anything," I added.

Kristina looked out the window, perhaps trying to keep a straight face. It seemed like people were always doing that when I talked. I suddenly remembered the way that the vampire had loved it when I would "do my over-informed, over-educated thing." He would get this big smile on his face and encourage me to keep going. I could imagine his gorgeous low voice saying, "Oh, Sydney, you get me so hot when you do that." Then he'd usually bend down to ….

"Hey, over by the tree," Kristina said suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. "Isn't that Jill? And Eddie?"

I looked at where she was pointing, an odd mixture of relief and annoyance washing through me at the interruption. "Oh, yeah," I said. "I guess they're having lunch." Jill and Eddie were sitting out by the big palm tree that Jill loved so much. They were deep in conversation, and Eddie was wearing one of his rare smiles. When he smiled, he looked almost like a different person. I saw what Kristina had been talking about – he was definitely an attractive guy.

"Hunh," Kristina said. "It looks... romantic."

"Ew, don't say that," Julia whined. "They're brother and sister." She looked at me, a question on her face. "I mean... right? Please tell me there's nothing weird going on."

"There's nothing weird going on!" I said, trying to act extremely disgusted and even slightly offended at the remark. "Eddie and Jill have been extra close since she got... really sick last year," I said, thinking fast. It wasn't even a lie, exactly. "I wasn't around then. Jill almost died and Eddie looked after her. They've had a sort of special bond ever since. He's her big brother, for heaven's sake."

"Oh," Kristina said. "That makes sense. What was wrong with Jill?" Her voice dropped to just above a whisper. "Like cancer or something?"

"Not like that," I said. "It's sort of a long story." I remembered what Rose had told me, that when people said that something was a long story, it meant that they didn't want to tell it. I wondered if Julia and Kristina were aware of that convention, and they apparently were, because they didn't ask any more questions about Jill's "illness."

For the rest of lunch, we talked about other things, and every time I looked up, I saw Bryan smiling at me. It was a sort of weird smile, and I wasn't sure how I felt about it. But at least I managed to keep my thoughts off of the vampire for a little while, which had to be good.

_Good for who, exactly?_ the Traitor asked, but I had no answer.


	18. I: Traction Part 2

**Chapter 16: Traction part 2**

The moment I opened my eyes, I was mad at the morning itself for depositing me in the waking world – a world in which there was nothing for me but more professionalism and more obligation.

"Thursday?" I muttered, when I looked at the calender on my phone. "It can't be. It's too _gruesome_."

Thursday meant three things that I was having trouble dealing with:

1. Double-free period before lunch.  
>2. A feeding at Clarence's.<br>3. Being one day closer to Friday's date.

The double-free period before lunch was the time that, up until a few weeks ago, I would have been running to Latte to drive over to a certain apartment building at top speed, then dashing up two flights of stairs to a door that would be opened by... a vampire. I had trouble thinking straight when I thought of it, the anticipation I always felt when the door opened and I heard that voice saying, "Hello, my beautiful golden-eyed girl. Would you care to step inside my gracious living room?"

"Never again," I muttered to myself when the bell rang at the end of my last morning class. "I'll never hear him say that again. Instead, I get to go to a stupid movie with Bryan." Perhaps not surprisingly, that failed to cheer me. I wondered what had possessed me to take Kristina's suggestion, but then reminded myself that it was all the name of moving on.

Of course, Thursday was a feeding day, as well. When my "family" met me at the car to ride over to Clarence's, I saw with disgust that Angeline was wearing a very short skirt and a tight, low-cut top. I wanted to tell her to go back to her room and change, but I knew that I might as well ask a dog to juggle Milk Bones. At least she seemed more subdued, not bragging or talking. In a way, though, her silence unnerved me. Was she plotting something?

As usual, I waited out in the car as everyone went into Clarence's, reading. I was reading _Hamlet_ now, which was at least slightly more cheerful than _Anna Karenina_. Also as usual, after the feeding, Jill wanted to go over for a visit with her bond mate, so I made the familiar drive over to his apartment complex. I dropped everyone off, promising to pick them up an hour later. And by habit, I waited at the coffee place where Trey worked.

"Hey, Melbourne," he said to me when I got my coffee. "I heard you're going out with Bryan tomorrow."

"You heard that?" I asked. "Wow, news travels fast."

"It does when the gossip is juicy," he said. "So, can I ask you, um, why?" His gaze was searching, and I looked away uncomfortably.

"No reason," I said. "Why not? He's a good guy."

"Sure," Trey said. "I mean, I guess so. I just wonder if something in particular prompted you to ask him out. It's not usually your style, from what I've seen. Bad break-up, maybe?"

"Excuse me?" I looked back at him in surprise.

"Look, Melbourne. The whole school is talking about it. You're rebounding from your mystery man, and you've bounced on to Bryan. He thinks he's hit the jackpot."

"Oh," I said. "That's good... Right?"

"Wrong," he said, bluntly. "He thinks you're hard-up, and all his buddies are egging him on. He's going to have certain expectations. I'd be careful if I were you."

"What do you mean?" I asked, but other customers came up to the counter then, and Trey couldn't talk any more. I sat down to drink my coffee, feeling uneasy. Expectations? What did that mean? Bryan and I hardly knew each other. What could he expect from me? I wanted to ask Trey more, but when I went up for a second coffee, Trey was still busy with other customers. He gave me a free refill without comment, and also handed me a muffin. Trey often gave me muffins, usually explaining that they were leftovers, but I didn't think that the store ever looked over-stocked on muffins. I guess he was just being nice.

I sat back down and nibbled at my muffin numbly, trying to process the meaning of his words, but eventually I gave up and turned back to _Hamlet._ In the fifth act, I came upon some lines that struck me for some reason: "If it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come—the readiness is all." I liked the quote, so I copied it over into a notebook to think more about later. Hamlet was talking about death, I thought, but it reminded me of how I felt about my upcoming date. The fact that I saw a parallel there was more than a little disturbing.

When I went back to the apartment complex to pick everyone up again, I was surprised to find them all waiting for me in the parking lot. I checked my watch, but I wasn't late, so it seemed that something unexpected had taken place. I pulled over to let them in, and they all got inside the car without comment, Eddie in the front seat and the girls in the back. Angeline was radiating a bad mood, and Jill and Eddie seemed sort of amused. I thought about asking about what had happened, but it seemed best not to involve myself in the situation. Aside from a little polite small talk, we were quiet on the way home.

At dinner, Angeline was conspicuously absent. This was highly suspicious as well, but I just couldn't bring myself to ask about it, and neither Eddie nor Jill seemed forthcoming. Dinner conversation was light, and Jill asked about the volleyball semi-final coming up on Saturday, which was sweet of her, I thought.

But then Eddie dropped a bomb. "I heard you're going to go out with Bryan tomorrow," he said.

"What?" Jill said, almost knocking over her drink.

"I am," I said, a little sheepishly. "How did you hear about it?"

"I overheard him talking about it," Eddie said. "In, um, the locker room."

"Oh," I said. I didn't know much about male social patterns, but even I had heard of locker room talk, and this sounded menacing.

"In the locker room?" Jill said. "What was he saying?"

"Just that he had a date with Sydney," Eddie said. "Nothing too interesting."

"I can't believe you're going out with someone else," Jill said to me. "How can you do this to us? How can you cheat on Adrian?"

"Us?" I repeated, confused. "Cheat?"

"Adrian's broken-hearted," Jill said, in a near sob. "And now you're going out with someone else."

"He and I aren't together," I said, as gently as I could. "I'm not cheating..."

"God, Sydney," Jill said, her voice rising even more shrilly. "You act like such a nice person, like you're such a goody-goody, but you're secretly really mean." I was shocked. Where was this coming from? "I am sort of sick of watching you," she went on, reminding me of Rose all of a sudden. "I'm sick of your nonsense and your... your... _salads_."

I looked at Eddie for support, but he stayed silent. "Jill," I said. "I'm just trying to move on."

"Try whatever you want," Jill said. "Meanwhile, Adrian is trying so hard to a better man, and you're just reverting to your bad old form. I'm... I'm not hungry. Why don't you eat the rest of my sandwich?" She pushed her plate over to me. "I'm going up to my room. All of a sudden, I feel like I'd rather hang out with Angeline."

She left in a huff. I sat there, feeling slapped in the face. Eddie looked at me, quietly, waiting for me to speak.

"Are you mad at me too?" I asked after a few minutes.

"No," he said. "I understand what you're doing."

"You do?" I said, relief spilling into my voice.

"Yes," he said. "You'll have to... you'll have to tell me if it works."

"Oh," I said. I bit my lip.

A moment passed, then Eddie said, "And just... be a little careful with Bryan, ok?"

"Trey said the same thing," I said. "What does that mean?"

"I just am not sure what to think of Bryan," Eddie said. "I want to give him the benefit of the doubt, but just... be careful, that's all I'm saying, ok?"

"Ok," I said, still not really understanding. "Do you have any idea why Jill was so mad at me?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Eddie asked.

"I guess it is," I said. "She's defending... you know who."

"It's more than that, actually," Eddie said, as if thinking out loud. "She's reacting almost as if she _were_ Adrian. It's a little worrying. He hasn't been as good about keeping up the barrier, ever since you two broke it off."

"Poor Jill," I said.

"Yes," said Eddie, and a shadow crossed his face. "Sometimes I really hate him for what he puts her through."

"Hey," I said, feeling a perverse need to defend the vampire. "He saved her life, you know."

"Playing devil's advocate?" Eddie asked.

"Vampire's advocate," I said, and laughed feebly.

Eddie didn't laugh. But then again, Eddie hardly ever laughed.

That night, I was sitting in bed reading before I went to sleep when I heard my phone vibrate. I picked it up off my bedside table and saw the number on my caller ID. You know when you're in a car going at a high speed and hit a dip between two hills? Your car almost flies for a half second, and your stomach flies up into your chest. It feels fluttery and exciting and sickening all at once. That is exactly how I felt. "This is Sydney," I said as I answered.

"I know who you are," said a familiar voice. "I'm the one who called you. Do you know who I am?"

"Of course," I said. One of my hands crept under my pillow and pulled out the t-shirt.

"Somehow, I doubt that," he replied. "You don't know who I am at all."

"Let's not debate identities," I said. "You called me for some reason. So, what do you want?"

"You answered for some reason."

"It might have been business," I said. I held the t-shirt on my lap and began running the fabric between the first two fingers of my free hand.

"Bullshit. I never call you on business, Sage."

"Well, what _do_ you want?"

"Admit that I never call you on business."

"I'm not going to debate motivations, either. Do you want to tell me why you called?"

There was a long pause. "I wanted to wish you good luck on your date."

My heart stopped, and I gripped the t-shirt tighter. "Oh," I said. Jill must have told him. I should have known that she would. In any case he would have found out sooner or later, right? This was good, wasn't it?

"You've really moved on, then," he said.

"I'm trying," I said.

"Well, good for you, Sage," he said, his voice dripping in sarcasm. "Good. We're clear." He paused. "Well, I should go. I just called to say 'good luck on your date.' And I did. So. Business completed. Identities confirmed. Bye, Sydney."

"Wait!" I said, my voice suddenly oddly high pitched.

There was a short pause. "Yes?"

"Um. How is class going?"

"Class?" In just the one word, I could hear so much emotion in the deep, lovely voice. It was an odd mixture of confusion and sadness.

"Painting class," I said, to clarify. "You have class today, right? How is it all going?"

There was another pause, and then he said, "Why are you asking me that?"

"Because... I want to know how you are. You sounded kind of upset on the phone the other night."

"Kind of upset?" He sounded incredulous.

"Yeah..."

There was a very long pause, long enough that I began to wonder if maybe the call had dropped. Then he said, in a choked voice, "I _was_ upset, Sydney. I've _been_ upset. I've been _miserable_."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I shouldn't have asked. I'll go."

"You'll go?" He let out a harsh laugh. "You already went!"

"I'm sorry," I said again.

"It's not enough," he said. "Let me tell you something: you can't keep doing this. I call you, because I miss you, because I need some answers. Then you try to start some sort of conversation. You ask me how I am. Then when I start to respond, you shut me down. This is twice now you've done it, and you can't. You can't have it both ways. You can't say that I'm a horrible monster and then ask me how I am."

"I didn't mean to do that," I said, feeling stupid. He was right: that was exactly what I was doing. I was every bit as awful as the Sydney in the nightmare.

"You don't mean to do _anything_," he said. "But then you do mean things."

"I don't... mean... to be mean," I said, feeling even stupider. "I don't know how to... deal with this. I just wanted to ask how you were."

"Why?" he said. "Why do you care?" He was almost shouting now.

"I guess I don't," I answered, just because the challenge in his voice brought out the anger in me. I immediately regretted saying it. The whole conversation was spinning out of control.

"Then what do you want from me?"

"I don't know!" I said, feeling a lump rise in my throat. _Yes, you do, _whispered the Traitor, in my head. "I don't know," I said again, out loud.

A very long silence followed that. Finally, he spoke, his voice as bitter as two-day old coffee. "The day you suss out what you do want," he said, "there'll probably be a _parade_. But don't expect me to be there clapping my hands, Sydney." He took a deep breath, then continued. "I'm done with you."

"You're done with me?" I said. "What does that mean?"

"It means that I can't go on like this. It hurts too much. So, after this, there'll be no more calls. No more visits to your car at Clarence's. I'll stay away from you, and you stay away away from me." He laughed a little, shakily. "Stay away from me and_ stay away from my dreams_."

"I see," I said. My voice was husky. "Thanks for letting me know."

"You're welcome," he said. There was a long pause.

"And we're done?" I said.

"Completely done," he said. There was another long, long pause. I expected him to hang up, but then he said, "I mean it this time. You and I are through."

"I know," I said, feeling miserable. I waited for him to hang up, but he didn't. I waited a full minute, sensing him still on the line. "Are you there?" I asked, finally.

"No," he said, and after another pause, he hung up.

I stared down at my phone as the screen dimmed and then shut off.

After that, I tried to read some more, but it was a lost cause, so I figured sleep was as good an option as any. As I brushed my teeth and washed my face, I tried to stay calm. In some ways, this phone conversation should just make me more ready to go on the date tomorrow, right? After all, if the monster was really done with me, then I should be done with him... right? It made sense.

_Ah,_ said the Traitor_. This must be some new definition of "sense" that I was not aware of up until now._

"You're getting really uppity," I said to her.

_You're the one arguing with yourself_, she countered, and I had to give her that point. _Sweet dreams,_ she added, as I pulled the blankets up and closed my eyes.


	19. I: Traction Part 3

_Revised significantly, September 14, 2012._

**Chapter 16: Traction part 3**

After classes on Friday, Bryan and I met in the parking lot after dinner to go to the movie. It was unseasonably warm for April, even by Palm Springs standards, and had to put the air conditioning on in Latte as we drove.

We chatted about random things for a bit: how crazy Ms. Terwilliger was, how hot it was outside, what we'd heard about the movie we were going to see. Bryan asked me if I had seen him in any football games in the fall, and I had said that I hadn't. Then I asked him if he planned to go to my upcoming volleyball game.

"Oh," he said. "Do people go to girls' volleyball games?"

"Sometimes," I said, as we pulled up to a red light. "It's a sort of important game. If we win this one, we'll go to the finals." I didn't point out that the football team hadn't made it past the regular season and that the volleyball team was doing really well, and that it seemed to me that if people were going to support either team, they should be supporting the volleyball team. It didn't seem polite to say all this, and I was trying my hardest to be as polite as I could be.

"Oh," he said again. "That's cool. Good luck!" I looked over at him, and he smiled winningly and patted my hand. "I think it's great that you play sports."

"Really?" I asked.

"Sure," he said. "Girls should totally be allowed to play sports if they want to."

I had no adequate response to such a condescending comment, so I just shut my mouth.

When we got to the theater, Bryan insisted on buying my ticket, and when we went to the concession stand, he bought us a huge popcorn and a huge soda to split. He chose a non-diet variety, which I never drink, and then he covered the popcorn with butter topping without asking. He carried the popcorn bucket, wh, and I took the soda cup, which was so large that I had to hold it with both hands. Then we started down the hallway for the movie.

"Hey look," I said, gesturing awkwardly to a sign on the wall as we passed it. "The sign up there says there are free refills. So if we finish this first gallon and are still thirsty, we can come get more." I could imagine a deep rich voice breaking into a laugh at that. "Sage!" he would have said. "Was that a joke? You know I love it when you tell a joke. Is this your second one this week?"

I looked over at Bryan, expecting him to smile at my joke, but he didn't seem to even notice that it had been one. "Cool," he said, non-committally. "Let's drink as much as we can to get our money's worth. I wonder if they allow two refills?"

I wondered if any human being, or even pair of human beings, could possibly drink that much liquid in a three hour time period without being violently ill. As we found a pair of seats – a little too close to the screen for my taste – I absentmindedly calculated the average volume of the human stomach, the speed of human digestion, the capacity of the average bladder, and the advisability of ditching one's date before the movie has even begun. Then I reminded myself I was here on a mission, and forced my attention back to the matter at hand. There had to be something good about Bryan. After all, he liked me, didn't he? That meant he thought we had some common ground. So it was up to me to find out what it was.

He had bought us the enormous popcorn, so be polite, I took a few popcorn kernels and put them in my mouth. They were as salty as the Dead Sea and as greasy as pure Crisco. I chewed and swallowed with effort. "Did you know," I said when I was done, "that the purported butter product in most movie theaters is actually a product called Topsit? It's virtually indistinguishable from the oil in which they pop the popcorn, which is called Popsit. They're both basically just canola oil with artificial butter flavoring and preservatives."

"Oh," Bryan said, shoveling popcorn in his mouth. "Is that bad?"

I opened my mouth to speak, then closed it again. He had no clue what I was talking about, and what's more, he barely cared. The vampire would have loved a bit of trivia like that, I felt certain. So I just said, "No. Oh look, the previews are starting."

"Cool," Bryan said. "They're my favorite."

After we sat through enough previews that I actually sort of forgot which movie we were seeing, the actual movie began. It wasn't long before I sort of missed the previews. It took only about ten minutes for me to figure out what the ending "twist" was going to be. As the movie dragged on, I was thrown off by the incorrect subtitles and poor pronunciation on all of the foreign languages and the scientific implausibility of most of the explosions.

My attention wandered. I found myself remembering a rainy afternoon visit to the vampire's place, when we had all watched a movie on his huge flat-screen TV. Jill and Eddie had been there, of course, so the vampire and I had had to be on our best behavior. I had ended up sitting on the couch, and the vampire had sat on the floor near my legs. He had surreptitiously put his hand on the back of my calf and had begun stroking my skin very slowly, and that gentle caress had nearly made me lose my mind. He had made occasional comments about the movie that had irritated Eddie and gone over Jill's head, but had made me laugh. The movie we had watched that day had been just as dumb as the one I was watching now, but the vampire had made it fun. He had that way to him. He made things fun.

Watching the movie now with Bryan was nothing like that. I could almost imagine the hilarious comments the vampire would have whispered in my ear, and the seductive ones too. He would have had me laughing and blushing and then probably would have kissed my boredom away. But here with Bryan, I felt... well, bored. A couple of times, he tried to take my hand, but his hands were greasy from the popcorn and I gently pulled away each time.

When the credits rolled, Bryan looked over and smiled. "That was great, wasn't it? Wow. I never would have guessed that the mother was actually the assassin!"

"Me either," I said. It hadn't been a guess, really. I had been virtually certain.

We got up and started to make our way out of the theater. "And it was so well researched, don't you think?" Bryan went on. "With all the foreign languages and stuff?"

"I was stunned," I said.

"You know, though," he said, "that scene when they used a magnet to pull out a bullet, that's totally inaccurate. You can't really do that."

I wanted to tell him that actually, it was absolutely possible to do that, as long as you had some alchemist technology in your bag, which, as a matter of fact, I did. But I just said, "Wow, really? I didn't know that."

_You're being _that _girl_, said the Traitor, in an oddly gentle tone. _You're being the girl who says and does things to please guys. The one who pretends to be something she's not. I thought you hated girls like that._

I drowned out the voice by saying, "So, what do you want to do now? Maybe go get a coffee?"

"I don't really like coffee. I don't know why everyone else likes it."

"Oh. Well, some people don't like it. It's ok if you don't. Um... I guess we could get something to eat."

"I'm stuffed after all that popcorn. Aren't you?"

In fact, I had barely touched the popcorn, but he apparently hadn't noticed that. "Stuffed," I agreed. "Hmm..."

"We could go for a walk," he suggested. "If we go back to Amberwood, there's a nice spot on the grounds where hardly anyone ever goes. That way we don't have to worry about making it back in time for curfew, but we could still hang out a bit more."

"Oh," I said. I weighed the idea in my mind. It meant not having to stare at food somewhere, or worry about who would pay the bill. I did just want to go back to Amberwood. All in all, it seemed like a good idea, so I agreed to it. He seemed glad, and pulled me into a hug before we got back into the car, which sort of puzzled me.

During the drive back to school, Bryan began talking about his football accomplishments again. My mind wandered yet again. The vampire had always told hilarious stories in which he was the hero, but it was always done in such a tongue-in-cheek way that the word "bragging" didn't seem to apply. It was sort of beyond bragging, to a point that all you could do was laugh, or hit him, or kiss him maybe. Bryan's bragging was more controlled, which made it less interesting, I realized. He didn't once ask me about volleyball, or anything else about me, for that matter.

By the time I parked the car in the lot at Amberwood, I was pretty much ready to call it a night, and possibly murder Kristina next time I saw her. If this was supposed to have cheered me up, it was a complete failure. The lack of connection between Bryan and me had simply emphasized what I had lost in giving up the vampire. And he was done with me, he had said.

We started to walk up the paved path towards the school, and Bryan took my hand again. "You look really pretty," he said to me.

"Thanks," I said.

"You know," he said, "I think I've been doing too much of the talking. I want to hear more of what's on your mind."

I looked at him in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, of course. Like I said, I want to go on a walk with you. We can talk a little." He squeezed my hand.

"It _is_ a nice night," I said, half to myself. It was still quite warm, though now that the sun was down, the heat was pleasant. "And the moon..." I said, half to myself. Bryan looked in the direction I was looking. The moon was huge and hung low in the sky. It reminded me of the moon I had seen on a dream-visit to Athens. I felt a lump rise in my throat, thinking of the moon in the sky over the Parthenon, and how I'd sat with the vampire, holding hands. He had listened as I had told him all about the ancient site, and we had used our mental energy to recreate the starred sky over the **Propiliya**, the enormous statue of Athena that had once stood in the middle of the Parthenon, and the colorful paint that had once covered all the clean white marble.

"The moon _is_ really pretty," Bryan said, startling me from my thoughts. "So let's go for a walk."

"Ok," I said, trying to wipe my mind clean of the memory, and we set off along a pathway that Bryan pointed out. It was on the edge of the school grounds, and seemed to be heading towards some hills.

"You and your family come from Idaho, right?" Bryan asked as we walked.

"No," I said. "Utah."

"Oh," he said. "So do you like it here in California?"

"Yeah," I said.

"Still, it must be hard to be so far from home. When you started here, the rest of us already pretty much knew each other. That must have been hard too."

"I guess," I said. "I'm kind of used to traveling." We were walking a little ways down a hill now, on a path that wasn't clearly marked. If it weren't for the moonlight, it might have been rough going. Somewhere in me, an alert sounded, and I tried to figure out if I was over-reacting or if there was genuine cause for concern. I hesitantly decided on the latter.

"Have you changed schools a lot?" he asked.

"I was home-schooled," I answered. I had found that this answer usually flummoxed people completely, but Bryan kept on.

"So, that means you haven't had a lot of experience with dating and stuff," he said.

"I guess not, no. Why do you mention it?"

"Well," he said. "I was wondering if you were going through your very first heart-break." The surprise must have shown on my face, because he went on. "The whole school is sort of talking about you and your mystery man."

I sighed. "There is no mystery man," I said. "I don't know what 'the whole school' could be talking about."

"Hey, let's hang out here," he said, gesturing in front of us. We had come to a spot where the ground jutted out over a viewpoint, and we could see far into the distance. "See that glow? That's Los Angeles."

I thought about pointing out that Los Angeles was in the complete opposite direction, but before I could say something to that effect, he went back to his previous point.

"We all know you were dating someone," he said. "Laurel says she saw you two together at a mall in Salton Sea. She couldn't see the guy clearly, but she was sure it was you."

"What? That doesn't make sense. I've never even been to Salton Sea."

"If you say so," Bryan said, as if it didn't matter. "But other people have seen you around with a guy. I heard that you wait for him at the coffee shop where Trey works."

"Has Trey ever said he saw me with someone?" I asked, genuinely curious. I thought I could trust Trey, at least a little.

"No, he hasn't, but he admits that you hang out there," Bryan said, as if that clinched it.

"Of course," I said. "I like coffee. I hang out there drinking coffee. That's what people do at coffee shops."

"Hey, hey, hey, don't get upset," Bryan said. Something about his dismissive tone made me feel even more pissed off. "It isn't important who saw you where with who."

"With _whom_," I muttered, then said, more loudly, "I haven't been anywhere with anyone, except for my family." I wanted to scream. The rumor mill could be so pernicious! I'd have to ask Julia and Kristina if they had heard, or possibly spread, any of these rumors.

"Not lately, anyway," Bryan said. "And that bring us back to the here and now." He took both my hands and gave me a seductive smile. "I'm really glad you asked me out. I think I can guess what's on your mind."

"Really?" I asked. "What's that?"

"I think you must want some comfort after you got dumped," he said. "They say that the best way to get over someone is to get _under_ someone else. And you came to the right place." With those words, he slipped his arms around my waist and kissed me, right on the lips. I didn't react right away – I was too surprised. I half expected some feeling to move through me, the same sweet sting I had always felt when the vampire had kissed me, or at least something slightly like it. But no. This just felt like mushing lips, and, ewww, tongues. And I really wanted him _off_ of me.

I regained my senses and pushed him away. "Really Bryan," I said, prying his arms off of me and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. "Thanks for your... um... interest, but I think you misunderstood."

"Misunderstood? What's to misunderstand? You turn me down flat a few months ago, and then you come crawling back. You must want _something_."

"I didn't crawl," I said. "I'm pretty sure I walked."

"Whatever. You know what I mean. We both know why you came to me. So why don't you just admit it?" He grabbed me again.

"Seriously!" I said, loudly. "Get off of me!" But he was all over me, his hands touching me wherever he could reach. There had been times with the vampire when he had been touching me a little like this, but they had always been sexy, exciting, wonderful. Now I just felt like I was being groped by an octopus.

Some sort of weird battle instinct kicked in, and I found my body moving in ways I had practiced with Eddie so many times. I dug my foot into the ground to get some traction, and then I swung Bryan up over my shoulder and flipped him onto the ground behind me. I spun around, crouching slightly in anticipation, but he was just lying there on his back. I was fighting with a human for the first time, and compared to my dhampir sparring-partner, a human was an easy target. I guess I hadn't known my own strength.

"Omigosh," I said, trying to sound contrite. I looked down at him on the ground. "Are you ok?" I must have knocked the wind out of him, because I saw him struggling to breathe. "Here, let me help you up." I tried to take his hand to help pull him to his feet, but he rejected the help. He lay there for a few moments, trying to catch his breath, then finally, he got to his feet on his own.

"I can't believe you did that," he said, his voice hoarse. "What kind of chick are you?"

"Well, you wouldn't get off of me," I said.

"You're the one who started this," he said, his voice growing louder "_Let's go to a movie! Let's go for a walk! Look at the moon_!" He imitated me in a sort of stock female voice that sounded nothing like me, or like any girl, really. "Then you get all prude-y when we're actually alone."

"It seems we had some miscommunication," I said. "You're the one who suggested the walk. Further, I didn't intend to participate in any sort of sexual activity with you. But," I added, "I'm sorry if I hurt you just now."

"You know something?" he said. He had his breath back now, I noticed. "I'll _make_ you sorry, you bitch."

I think I would have been able to duck if I had had any inkling of what he had been planning. It just hadn't occurred to me that he would actually punch me in the face. I saw him pull back his arm and swing, and the next thing I knew, his fist collided with my nose, and then kept going to smash into to my left eye. I cried out in pain, but when I fell down on the ground, I landed as Eddie had taught me to land during a fight, then scrambled back up into a sort of protective stance, keeping my center of gravity low like I had been taught. I was ready for Bryan to try to strike again.

As it turns out, I didn't need to worry. Someone grabbed Bryan from behind and put him into a choke hold that actually lifted him off the ground.

"Let's get a few things clear," Eddie said, in a deadly calm voice. "If you ever _talk_ to my sister again, or _about_ her for that matter, you'll be in traction for a week, do you understand?"

Bryan made a weird choking noise, which was the best he could do from where he sort of danged from Eddie's grip.

"And if you ever _touch_ her again," Eddie continued, "you won't even make it to the _hospital_, do you understand?"

Bryan made another noise, which I understood to be assent. Then Eddie dropped him, and Bryan got to his feet and began backing away cautiously.

"Are we clear?" Eddie asked him, his voice still oh-so-calm.

"Clear," said Bryan, his voice cracking dramatically, then took a few hesitant steps away from us. Eddie stared at him, and Bryan took a few more steps, more quickly, and then turned his back on us and broke out into a full on run.

"He _punched_ me," I said, as Bryan disappeared along the pathway. "I can't believe he _punched_ me."

"Yeah, I saw that," Eddie said. Then before I understood what he was planning to do, he tore a piece of cloth from the bottom of his shirt. He must have strong hands, I thought idly. "Here, lean your head back a little," he said, putting a hand on my back to help steady me as he brought the cloth to my nose. "If we apply pressure for a bit, it should stop bleeding."

"This is so... stupid," I said, taking the cloth from him and pressing it against my nose.

"Maybe. But it happened. So let's deal with it. You should probably sit down." I was leaning my head back, and my view was partially blocked by the cloth, so Eddie led me over to a big rock that we could sit on. Because I had to lean my head to far back to stop the blood, I had to sort of lean against him to keep my balance once we were sitting.

"So, not that I'm not grateful," I said, once we were settled, "but what are you doing here?"

"I was watching for you," he said, matter-of-factly.

"What made you think I'd need watching?"

"I overheard Bryan saying something in the locker room the other day."

"What did he say?"

"I won't dignify his comments by repeating them, but you can probably guess." I made a sort of grunt of agreement. "I wasn't sure at the time whether he meant it," Eddie continued, "or whether he was just playing it up for the other guys in the locker room. Either way, I just thought I'd keep an eye on things, in case you needed me. I watched for your car coming back, and when I saw you two head down this path, I kept pace behind you."

"I never saw or heard you," I said.

"Well, I was about a hundred meters away," he said. "As it turns out, you didn't even need me. You exceeded my expectations, Sydney. That flip was awesome." The pride in his voice made me smile, despite the pain in my face. "That's why I hung back – I thought that maybe you had it under control by yourself and didn't need your 'brother's' intervention. But then that asshole punched you, so at that point I stepped in. For the record? I think you could have taken that little shit down, but I wasn't about to just sit and watch."

"But you were following us the whole time?"

"Yes," he said. "Let me take that," he added. "You relax." He took the cloth from my hands and used it to apply the pressure to my bleeding nose. He was surprisingly gentle.

"I can't believe that I never saw or heard you..." I persisted.

"You're human," he said. "I'm not. And beating up stupid jock humans isn't exactly hard for me."

"Well, thank you," I said. I didn't feel as stiff and uncomfortable as I usually did when thanking someone, particularly someone who was part-vampire. "Thanks for training me, and thanks for watching out for me. This whole night would have been really different if it weren't for you."

"I'm only doing my job," Eddie said.

"You're not _my_ guardian," I said.

"Not really, but I'm your friend, whether you want me to be or not."

I didn't know what to say to that. I hadn't exactly been on best terms with him lately, and I was surprised that he still considered me a friend. Once again, I was surprised by how nearly all the people who seemed to care most about me were Moroi or dhampirs.

There didn't seem to be any need to talk anyway, so I just sort of fell silent, aware that it was sort of comfortable and nice to be leaning against Eddie like this. It felt how it must actually feel to be with a brother. It was funny, I thought, how very different three different guys could make me feel. Being here like this with Eddie was relaxing and safe. The idea of resting like this with Bryan sort of made me want to vomit. And the idea of being this close to the vampire set every nerve on fire with longing. I tried to brush that thought away and focused instead on the steady warmth and safety of Eddie. My dhampir friend Eddie.

"Are you still bleeding?" Eddie asked, after a few moments. We checked, and there was still a slight trickle of blood running from my nose. I leaned back into Eddie, and he held the cloth to my face again.

Despite my effort, my mind went back to the vampire, for a complete-lack-of-a-change. He had said he was done with me. And with good reason, I thought. No sane person would want to be with me after the way I had treated him. And now I could never get him back. There seemed no way to spin that fact into something good.

All of a sudden, I had that feeling you get when you're driving and you realize that you have taken at least three or four wrong turns and are now so hopelessly lost that you can't even find yourself on the map. I wanted to just backtrack, retrace my steps, go back to the start. I wanted to find my path again. But I knew I couldn't. The way was blocked now, forever. He was done with me. And knowing that brought fresh tears to my eyes.

"God," I said out loud, as I used a clean edge of the cloth to wipe away the tears. "I'm an idiot."

"The words 'Sydney Sage' and 'idiot' don't really fit in the same sentence," Eddie said.

"How about 'Sydney Melrose' then?" I asked. "She's kind of a moron."

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Eddie said. "Like I said before, I know what you were trying to do."

"Yeah," I said. "It was a brilliant plan." My dry, sarcastic tone made Eddie laugh a little. "Let's start walking back," I added. "I think I'm ok now." Eddie helped me climb up the slight incline to get back on the main path. My nose had stopped bleeding, but I became aware as I walked of series of scratches on my arms, which I must have gotten when I had fallen.

"Well, did your plan work?" Eddie asked. "Your grand plan to go on a date and... you know. Cheer up." I gave him a withering look. "I mean, before," he added quickly. "Was it working? Before it um, took a turn for the dramatic?"

"No," I said. "It wasn't working at all."

"It didn't even get your mind off of..."

"No," I said flatly. We both walked in silence for a bit.

"Damn," he said after a moment, and it was more an exhalation of sound than an actual word. I looked at him. His guardian facade was down, and I could see a deep sadness on his face.

"Sorry," I said. "I guess it wasn't such a great plan." I didn't add: "So it wouldn't work for you, either." I didn't have to. By then, we were walking very slowly up the main pathway to the school. It was completely deserted, so I felt safe to speak freely, if a little bit quietly. "You know what's funny?" I said, to change the subject. "Julia and Kristina think that you and I really do look alike, like we could really be brother and sister."

"Why is that funny?"

"Because... you know. We're not. We're not even the same species."

"Well," he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, "when you spend ten minutes holding a bloody rag to someone's face, I think it creates a certain family bond, regardless." We both laughed a little, though I stopped quickly because it kind of hurt. We had come to a lamppost, and Eddie gestured to the pool of light. "Let me see you," he said, and I got into the light. "You're not bleeding," he said. "Though you are going to have a hell of a black eye for a few days. You should probably get some ice on it."

We started walking again and I found myself idly staring at the the tear in his shirt. I could see part of a set of six-pack abs underneath. Kristina was right – he was attractive. He was really attractive, as well as smart, kind, brave, and generous. Why didn't he affect me like the vampire did? _Maybe because it isn't just about looks_, the Traitor whispered. _Maybe it's a lot of other things that make you feel the way you do about Adr—_

"I still can't believe you tore your shirt to make me that rag," I said. "You're the best brother a girl can get assigned to her."

"Thanks," he said.

"I owe you one," I said. "Or a few, really, if you include that night with... Lee."

"Then let me call in a favor right now," he said.

"Name it."

"I want you to think about giving Adrian another chance."

I was momentarily stunned, then I said, "What? I thought you thought he was a worthless party boy. What did you call him? A trust fund baby without the trust fund?"

"Well, to be honest, he's impressed me these past three weeks. I mean, yeah, he's let his guard down with regards to the bond with Jill, but he's obviously hurting really badly, and he's not masking it all in alcohol or going out to pick up girls. He even..." He paused, considering, then went on. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you this, but Angeline fucking pisses me off. So. You know yesterday, when she had that... outfit on?"

"Yes," I said, trying not to look too interested, though I was dying to hear it.

"Well, she cornered Adrian in his bedroom."

"Oh, God..." I sighed heavily.

"She lay down on his bed and said she'd love to pose nude for him."

"Oh, God," I said again. "Wait, how do you know this?

"Jill saw it," he said. "So. He had easy pickings, you know? Angeline was very, very willing. And he wasn't even slightly interested."

"Why do you think he didn't... you know..." I was starting to feel sort of foggy from the pain and blood loss, and it was hard to think of a good euphemism.

"Because he isn't interested in her."

"But why? I think she's... sort of pretty." I studied him as he considered. I had never heard a male opinion on her.

"She is, I guess." He paused, then went on. "Honestly, she's pretty _hot_. But I don't think he wants that kind of thing right now. He's just missing _you_."

"Not any more, he isn't," I said. "You didn't hear him this morning. He called me and... Well, he had heard about the date. I guess Jill told him."

Eddie sighed. "I'm sorry I brought it up at dinner," he said. "I just thought that if we all talked about it together it would be better in the long run."

"It's not your fault," I said. "She was going to find out, and so was he."

Eddie shook his head, then asked, "So, what exactly did Adrian say on the phone?"

"That he was really done with me. Completely. That I should stay away from him."

"I don't buy it," said Eddie, almost immediately. "I think that if you just called him, he'd be happy to take you back. No question."

"I don't think so," I said. "Maybe this is all for the best. I don't know."

"This is what _I_ know," Eddie said. "While you were with Adrian, you were happy. It changed you, for the better. You relaxed, you let down your guard. And some of that stuck. I mean, you went hiking with me and Jill last week. You never would have done that before you went out with Adrian."

I thought about that. I was feeling more and more foggy, so it was hard to think clearly, but I realized he was probably right. No one had talked me into it. I had simply agreed to go on the hike, thinking it'd be fun to do something different and to spend a day with Jill and Eddie. A few months ago I might have gone, but only because of a sense of obligation, not because I expected to enjoy it.

"Knowing Adrian has been good for you," Eddie said, "even if breaking up made you act kind of bitchy for a while."

"Hey!"

"And he's changed too," Eddie continued, as if he hadn't heard my objection. "He's much more responsible and grounded. When he went out with Rose, he stopped drinking, but it was only when she was around. It was like a little kid being good because he wants a present from Santa Claus. This is different. He's changed a lot, and I think it's because of you. I think all he's done since you two broke up is smoke a few cigarettes, which is nothing compared to his old habits."

I didn't know what to say to that, so we just walked into my dorm lobby in silence.

As we closed the door behind us, the dorm mother got up from the couch where she often awaited students coming in for the night. She took one look at my bloody face and turned pale. I exchanged glances with Eddie. What were we going to say? I was used to covering up for vampire activity. Did I want to cover up for Bryan, or did I want to tell the whole story?

"What happened?" the dorm mother asked. "Are you ok, Sydney? Should you maybe go see the nurse?"

"I'm ok," I said. "My brother helped me."

Eddie stepped up. "Let me explain. Is it ok if Sydney rests a little? I'll tell you the whole story."

The house mother looked back and forth between us, then gestured to the couch, where I lay down. She got me an ice pack, and I held it to my face while she and Eddie spoke quietly a few feet away.

After a while, she came over and knelt by me. "Is it true that Bryan actually hit you?"

"Yes," I said, feeling very tired.

"Because he expected something from you that you didn't want to do?"

"That's my best guess," I said. "Also, he was mad because I flipped him." I was too tired to explain.

"Flipped him?"

"On his back," Eddie said. "Like a turtle. It was awesome."

"Ah," she said. "That's... interesting. Was that before or after he hit you?"

"Before," I said. "But it was after he put his greasy hands all over me and wouldn't take them off."

She smiled. "I'm sorry that this happened to you, but I think I kind of would have liked to see this 'flip'," she said. "But don't tell anyone else I said so." She leaned forward and gave me a kiss on my forehead, like I was a little girl. "Well, for now, I think you should go up to your room and rest, unless you'd prefer to get medical attention."

"No, I'm fine," I said.

"Then say good night to your brother," she said, looking at Eddie with approval. "You're lucky to have a brother like him, that's for sure." She sounded so frankly admiring that I wondered if she harbored the same opinion of him that Kristina and Julia did. "Let me go get you another ice pack or two," she added. "You have a fridge in your room, right?"

"Yes," I said. "Thanks."

She disappeared into the inner offices, and I got up and gave Eddie a tight hug. "Thanks again for everything, big brother," I said.

"Am I the older twin?" he asked, his face passive but his eyes twinkling. "I always forget which of us was born first." Then he gave me another squeeze and kissed me on the cheek.

I heard a gasp behind us and turned around to see Jill. The door to the lobby was still swinging, so she must have just come in. Her mouth was shaped in a little "oh!" of surprise.

"Hey, Jill," I said. "Are you ok? Were you looking for me?"

"I guess everyone's looking for _you_," she said. Her eyes and hair were wild, and though I couldn't see auras, I still could almost _feel_ hers. It was dark, scattered, and intense.

"There's something wrong, isn't there?" I asked her. I tried to take a step towards her, but wavered on my feet. Eddie reached out a hand to steady me, and Jill stared at me with hatred on her face.

"I'd say so," she said. "You toy with Adrian, go out with Bryan, and now you want Eddie as well?"

"Jill," I said. "Come on, it's fine. It's not like that." I looked around frantically, hoping no one had heard her. That would be incredibly hard to explain to anyone who had overheard it, and she was talking sort of loudly. Eddie stood frozen, looking at Jill with a look of complete desperation on his face. I had never seen him look so helpless. Nobody spoke, so I said, "Please, Jill, if you'd like to talk, we can head up to my room and talk about whatever you want. I can see you're upset, and I'd like to help."

"You wouldn't care anyway," she said. "You have everything. We have nothing. We're all alone. We're going to turn to dust and blow away." She let out a weird, choked sob, then ran out of the lobby.

"Go after her," I said to Eddie. It came out as a hiss between my teeth. "There's something really wrong with her. I'd go after her myself but I can barely stand." I sat down heavily on a chair, proving my point. Eddie remained motionless, so I tried again. "It'll be ok," I said to him, as gently as I could, considering my frustration. "Once we explain, it'll be fine. She's not a stupid girl; she'll understand. I think there's something else wrong with her." He still stared at me. "Did you hear me?" I said, more harshly. "There's something wrong with Jill! Go after her!"

Eddie looked at me for another brief moment, and then suddenly, without a word, took off running. Through the window, I saw him disappear down the paved path towards Jill's dorm. I had never seen anyone run that fast. It was like watching an Olympic sprinter in a gold medal performance. Idly, I wondered how many Olympic medalists were dhampirs, then wondered why I was wondering something so random and stupid. Maybe I had a concussion or something.

A moment later, the house mother returned with some ice packs, which I took gratefully, and began the slow walk upstairs. It felt like it took forever to get up to my room, and then even longer than forever to shower and brush my teeth. When I returned to my room, I checked my phone and found a text from Eddie that said, "Talked to Jill, think ok. Rest tonight, I'll call in the morn."

Well, _that_ was good at least. I texted back an "ok" and then lay down on my bed with a fresh icepack on my face. I was exhausted, but couldn't fall asleep right away. My face ached, and there were scratches and bruises all over me from my fall. Plus, my mind was racing – or, more like spinning its wheels, unable to move. My mind replayed the night's events – a fist coming towards my face, Jill's gasp of surprise. And always, always, in the background there was a voice, angry and bitter, telling me that he was completely done with me.

I tried to focus on Jill. It was my job to look after the girl, and I had no idea what was wrong with her. Or maybe I did. Her words had reminded me of something. A memory surfaced in my mind of the vampire saying, a long time ago in a dream: "They'll take you away from me, and I'll be alone like before. And I'll dry up and turn to dust and float away."

Suddenly, I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. What if Jill was in this state because her bond-mate was sinking into spirit-darkness? But why would he be? I had just healed him a few nights ago. And even if he weren't well, there was nothing I could do about it. I was hardly mobile at the moment, considering my injury, and more importantly, the vampire had forbidden me to ever contact him again.

The memory of his words felt a lot like a punch in the face, and I was in the position to know exactly what _that_ felt like. He was done with me. I couldn't say it was just as well, since there was nothing "well" about it. But it was what it was. It was what it _had_ to be. I couldn't possibly be with him for the rest of my life, and since that was true, I had to stay away from him, for fear of losing even more of myself than I already had.

Today had been a step backward in a lot of ways, I realized, as I got ready for bed. I had allowed myself to actively miss the vampire, to remember all the good things about him, to feel that intoxicating rush of affection that he could inspire in me. I couldn't keep letting myself do this. I had to be stricter with myself. And above all, I could _not_ let myself get anywhere near the vampire until I had this weakness under better control.

But for tonight, just for tonight, when I hurt so badly mentally and physically, I gave up on being strict with myself. It was a dire circumstance, after all. I put on the vampire's shirt and let myself sink into a soothing daydream: a different bed, a different room, a different circumstance. I pictured affectionate green eyes looking into mine, and gentle hands touching my bruises and healing them. And thinking about that, I fell asleep.

_A/N: I know I made Bryan a complete jerk. He's not really one in the book, so I almost felt bad, but A) since we don't really get to know him in the book, he's fair game and B) a lot of people in this series turn out to be awful, unexpectedly! :)_


	20. I: You Know Who Isnt Fine

_Revised September 15, 2012. _

**Chapter 17: You Know Who Isn't Fine**

I passed a restless night. My dreams were strange, roiling and dark, like a storm at sea. I woke up confused, almost unable at first to get a grasp on reality once more.

When I finally dragged myself out of bed the next morning, I gasped when I saw myself in a mirror. Eddie's prediction had come true: livid purple and black bruises surrounded my left eye. I applied some topical pain reliever from my alchemist kit, knowing that it wouldn't likely help heal the bruises but glad for any help it could provide. I was grateful that today was Saturday, as it allowed me extra time to get ready. I needed almost an hour to cover the bruises, both on my face and on my arm.

As I worked on my makeup, I tried not to think about anything much. I felt numb after my conclusion of last night. It was the right decision, though. I might be feeling sad or sentimental, but I had to stay the course that I had laid out for myself. No matter how weak I was feeling, I wasn't going to give in. Humans and vampires couldn't be together romantically, and this one particular vampire was especially wrong for a staid, boring, academic type like me. It would never work anyway. So I might as well face that reality and keep myself as far away from him as possible.

Once I'd done what I could to clean myself up, I changed out of the t-shirt and slipped it under my pillow again. Then I went down to breakfast, where I stared at a carton of yogurt, unable to actually eat it. My stomach was still in knots from my weird dreams. There was no sign of Eddie or Jill, and neither of them answered my phone calls. I even tried to go over to Jill's room, but she wasn't there, and Angeline just gave me a dirty look and wouldn't tell me anything.

I couldn't think of any other way to get in touch with Eddie or Jill, so I was forced to give up and leave for my errand for Ms. Terwilliger, which I had to complete before my afternoon volleyball game. The teacher had asked me to drive over to a neighboring town and pick up a book she had on reserve at their library. The drive was 45 minutes each way, and it was extremely hot out, but I just rolled down the windows and dealt with the heat. For some reason, I was in the mood for it.

I got back to school in time for the game, but just barely. I ran up to my room to change and touch up my makeup, and then took my place on the court. The team was pumped up, but I felt my attention wander. I played to the best of my ability, feeling a little dizzy, either from the heat or from my injuries, I wasn't sure.

Next thing I knew, a whistle blew loudly and the spectators cheered. I looked over at the scoreboard. The game was over and we had won. My teammates got into a big group hug, celebrating, and I stood apart, feeling dumb. Once the huddle broke apart, some of the girls thumped me on the back, so I had to hope that I had done well, but I had no actual memories of the game.

I walked off the court, planning to pour myself a little cup of water from the big orange cooler. My coach was there waiting for me, though, with a whole bottle of water, and she gestured me to sit down on a bench apart from the rest of the celebrating students.

"Drink some of the water," she said, and I obediently twisted off the cap and began to drink. "Listen, Sydney," she said. "This isn't going to be a lecture. You played... _fairly_ well out there. But I'm worried about you."

"I know, my eye looks bad. It's ok, I have the situation under control."

"Your eye?" She peered at me. "Oh, I see. You did a good job covering it up. It's just one bit there where your make-up sweated off..." She gestured with one finger. "And of course, it's a little swollen. Wow, what happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it," I said.

"Are you sure?" she asked.

"I'm sure," I said. "Don't worry about it."

"If you say so," she said, clearly uncomfortable. "I did have something I needed to talk to you about, though."

"Ok," I said. "What is it?"

"I just think you haven't been at at your best lately," she said, a little slowly, as if she were choosing her words carefully. "Are you paying attention to your nutrition?"

"I take that very seriously," I said. "I am eating a high protein diet, with lots of fruit and vegetables."

"Ok," she said. "But are you eating _enough_?"

"What do you mean?" I hadn't been expecting this at all.

"I just think you've gotten a little too thin. You're not at a dangerous level or anything, but maybe it's time for you to stop dieting. You know that you are at a below-average weight, right? And that you don't need to restrict your calories further?"

"I have everything under control," I said, again.

"Maybe you should relax some of that control," she said. "When was the last time you just had a cookie or something?"

"I don't like sweets," I answered.

"Fine," she said. "It doesn't have to be sweets. But it has to be something. Pasta maybe? Cheese? I don't know. Find something you do like, and eat it, ok, Melrose?"

"Ok," I said.

"Good," she said. "Glad to see I'm understood." She shook my shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie. "Great work out there today. We're going to the semi-finals next week! Get pumped!" I smiled weakly and walked away.

I went back to my room, my mind reeling. I was exhausted from the game, physically still hurting from the fight with Bryan, and mentally and emotionally drained by... well, basically everything that had happened to me recently. I didn't need this extra level of stress that my coach had put on me. Why had she said all that to me? Was it some sort of reverse psychology thing, because she had noticed how fat I was? I didn't get it.

I took a quick shower to get the sweat off of me, then changed into a pair of jean shorts and a green spaghetti strap tank top that Jill had picked out for me. It was tighter than I was used to, and a little lacy at the neckline, but it was the lightest thing I could find to put on. It was so hot in my room that I had to open my window, hoping that the air outside was at least slightly cooler than the air inside, though that seemed doubtful. I was just getting out my hair dryer to try to do something with my hair when someone knocked on my door.

I answered it and was surprised to see Jill. She walked in without waiting for an invitation, then sat down on my bed. I looked at her in surprise. She looked wild-eyed. Her hair was frizzier than usual and she had an air of nervous distraction.

"I saw part of your match," she said, without greeting me. "You kind of sucked."

"Jill," I said, sitting down on my desk chair so I could face her. "I'm glad you came. I was looking for you this morning..."

"I was out," she said. "Eddie took me to the palm tree. He thought it would help me. It didn't."

I wanted to smack myself in the face, but of course, I didn't. The California fan palm tree! Why hadn't I checked there? "We really have to talk," I said.

"Eddie explained already," she said. "Bryan punched you. Eddie helped you."

"Well, yes," I said. That was a very succinct summary of the situation, I thought. "Listen, we should talk a little about your reaction to what you saw. I mean, to clarify, Eddie and I aren't romantically involved. And I think that your reaction may indicate that you..."

"I can react how I want," she said.

I wasn't sure what to say to that. In some ways, she seemed jealous, and I couldn't tell if it was jealousy influenced by feelings coming through the bond, or if they were feelings of her own. In other words, I wasn't sure that she was upset at the thought of me with someone else, or if she was upset at seeing _Eddie_ with someone else. Maybe it was sort of both. But in any case, there was more going on here than just jealousy, because Jill wasn't normally this rude or out-of-control.

"Jill, please, what is the matter?" I asked, trying to keep my own uncertain emotions in check. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," she answered. "You're fine. Eddie's fine. Even _Angeline_ is fine." She spat the name. "You know who isn't fine?"

I didn't answer.

"You _know_ who isn't fine," she repeated, but it wasn't a question this time She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at me. I had never seen her so belligerent. "Yeah, you won't say his name," she said, and then her voice rose to a yell. "Adrian!" she shouted. "ADRIAN IS NOT FINE!"

I stared at her in silence. My mind was racing, but no clear thoughts made it through the jumble. What did she mean that he wasn't fine? Was he hurt? I had a sudden flash of images of him hurt, bleeding, dying. I couldn't even form words.

"Everything is dark and confused," she continued. "I've never felt like this. Ever. Eddie says not to take the darkness from him, from Adrian I mean, but it's like he's drowning in it, and so I am too."

"What happened?" I asked. It came out in a weird, frightened whisper.

"Didn't someone tell you?" she asked, peering at me as if I were miles and miles away. "Didn't anyone tell you about the bus crash? It even made the newspapers this morning."

"Bus crash?" My heart-rate spiked. I found myself leaning forward to grab Jill's shoulders. I practically shook her as I said, "Is he hurt?" At the look on her face, I released my grip on her, but couldn't stop the words tumbling out. "Is it serious? I should go to him. He'll have to be transferred to a Moroi facility..."

Jill cut me off. "He's not hurt," she said, flatly. "He wasn't in a bus crash. He just was there when it happened."

"Oh," I said, and drew in a slow breath. I sat back in my chair, my heart still pounding. A confused kind of relief suffused me, a relief almost as overwhelming as my fear had been.

Jill studied me. "You were scared there for a minute," she said, sounding satisfied.

"Of course," I said. I thought about saying something about how it was an alchemist's job to make sure that no Moroi were ever examined at hospitals, but it just seemed pointless. I couldn't lie any more. "But you said he witnessed a bus crash?" I prompted Jill, after a few moments of silence. "What happened?"

"Well, yesterday evening, he was waiting for his bus," she said. "And then... there was a big accident. Like, right in front of him. A van crashed into a bus, and the bus like, went right onto the sidewalk, hitting some people. A lot of people were really, really hurt, on the bus, and the van, and the sidewalk, actually. Adrian was across the street when it happened." She paused, as if gathering strength to continue. I held my breath. What if he had been on the other side of the street? I tried not to think about it as she went on. "So, Adrian just ran over and began healing people, you know, with spirit. They were all so... bloody." She drew in a shaky breath, and it hit me that she must have 'seen' all of this through Adrian's eyes. It must have been so frightening for her. "He was trying to at least make sure they survived long enough for the EMS workers to get there."

"How many people did he heal?" I asked.

"He wasn't counting, so I don't know either," Jill said. "Like twenty or thirty." I took a surprised deep breath. So many! "He saved their lives," she added. "A lot of them were _really_ badly hurt. But no one died. It was because of him."

"Wow," I said. I knew that I should be upset that he was so flagrantly using his magic, as it might have exposed his secret to the human world. But the image of him running from person to person, saving lives, just made me proud. I wished I'd been there to see it. I wished everyone had been there to see it, especially all the people who had written him off as a worthless party boy. "But wait," I said. "What is the problem now? If he wasn't in the crash..."

"Spirit," Jill said, simply. It was the word that had been on the tip of my tongue. "Adrian tried to make sure to heal the injured people only well enough to stabilize them, so that he could save his energy as much as possible. But there were too many people, and they had been hurt so badly. A few were really on the point of death. He healed them all, and he's paying the price now."

I nodded. The amount of spirit he must have wielded would have been extraordinary. The spirit-darkness that I had seen in him on other occasions would be nothing compared to what he must be suffering right now. I looked at Jill, at her wild eyes and confusion, and didn't know what to say. She was just experiencing this second hand, but it was still almost unbearable for her. It explained her strange behavior from the previous night, and her current state of agitation. If it was this bad for her, how bad was it for _him_?

After a moment, I half-whispered, "Did anyone see him healing people?"

"That's all you care about?" Jill half-shrieked. "If anyone saw?"

"I have to do my job," I said. "What I do protects him, and all the Moroi."

"No one saw him," she said, a little sulkily. "I mean, people saw him with the like, injured people, but he just pretended to be a religious freak praying over them, and no one paid any attention to him." A smile twisted up one corner of her mouth, as if she didn't really want to smile but couldn't help it.

I could imagine the scene, and it made me smile, too. I pictured him leaning over someone and praying loudly, probably in a fake Southern accent or something, while actually using his spirit powers to heal. But the people in the crash must have known that he was really helping them – if they were conscious, anyway. His magic would have washed over them in waves of warm and cold, making them feel calm and at peace, making their pain lessen and then disappear. They must have thought he was some sort of angel. Not a monster at all.

"Ok," I said. "No one saw, or at least, no one understood. Good. Where is he now?"

"He's at his apartment."

"What can we do to help him, do you think? Should we call Sonya or Lissa, maybe?"

"They can't get here for hours, maybe even a whole day," Jill said. "He needs you. Now."

"_Me_?" I said, shocked. "No, he doesn't. He told me he was done with me. His exact words. 'I'm done with you.' He hates me. I could bring you over, maybe..."

"He needs _you_," she repeated. "And I'm not you. Needing you, wanting you – it's like, the only coherent thought I get from him. We're – I mean, _he's_ scared and alone, and he's calling for you in his mind. I don't understand why you can't hear him."

"I don't have a psychic bond with him," I said. "That's why." But in the back of my mind, I remembered my roiling dreams from the night before. The darkness, the confusion, the fear... Had I experienced his pain through a sort of connection with him?

"Still," Jill said. She put her hands over her ears as if blocking actual sound. "It's so loud. It's drowning out all my own thoughts. Drowning out every other sound, every other sight..." She ran her fingers through her hair. "Please help him, Sydney," she said, turning her eyes on me, those bright green eyes that reminded me of his.

"I can't," I said. I tried to find other words to explain, but couldn't. "I can't. I just can't."

"Please, Sydney," Jill said again.

"You don't understand, Jill. I have to stay away from him right now. I promised myself that-"

Jill interrupted me. "But he's _terrified_," she said.

I put my face in my hands. Unbidden, my mind conjured up images of the nightmare that I had witnessed: the vampire on the ground, begging for help, his eyes wide and frightened, as the doctor-blobs tortured him. I had helped him then, and it had only been a dream. And the truth was, I wanted to help him again now.

Could I really, though? If I went over to his apartment right now, if I looked him in the eye, the last scraps of resolve I had would disappear. I would be face to face with the thing that I now understood I wanted desperately, but that I could never have. I should really protect myself from it. I should stay away. The pain I'd go through if I went near him, if I had to look at what I had to deny myself – that pain was just too intense.

_More intense than the pain _he's_ going through right now?_ asked the Traitor.

"Sydney?" Jill asked. "Are you going?"

"Give me a minute," I said, into my hands.

"He doesn't have a minute," Jill whined. "Please, Sydney. _Please_."

Something about the way she said that word, _please,_ made me remember how the vampire had pleaded in the dream. "Please don't go, Sydney," he had said. "Please, Sydney, call me by my name." His eyes, full of tears. "Be _you_, please. All I want is _you_." There had been such desperation in his voice, even later on the phone. "Please. I'm not going crazy, right?" He had been so helpless. He had needed me. And from what Jill was saying, he needed me even more right now.

No matter what was happening between him and me, no one deserved to feel like that. I had to at least try to help.

"Ok," I said, straightening up. "I'll... I'll go. He'll probably just tell me to go away anyway." I stood up and found that I was shaking. I tried to steel myself for what was going to happen next. I glanced at myself in the mirror and made a face. My hair was still wet, and the bruises on my face looked, if possible, even more awful than they had this morning. There was no time to fix myself up, no time to hide the bruises, but part of me really did want to put on makeup or at least brush my hair or _something_. I didn't want him to see me like this. But I slipped on some flip-flops and grabbed my purse and my alchemist kit, then faced the door. "Ok, I'm ready," I said.

"Here," Jill said, a weird smile on her face. She must have seen the look I'd given myself in the mirror. "I'll dry your hair for you." She flicked a hand at me and a strange feeling, almost like a warm breeze, came at me. Then a fine mist rose from my head. As I watched, the mist coalesced into a ball and flew out the window.

"That's a cool trick," I said, not sure what else I could say in my amazement. Her magic was amazing, even when she used it for such trivial purposes. She was getting more powerful every day.

"Yeah," she said. "Now you look _gorgeous_. He'll love it." I glanced at myself in the mirror, and actually, my hair did look great. It hung in loose waves around my face. A silly thought ran through me that I should get Jill to do my hair every day, and I pushed the thought away, annoyed at myself.

"Thanks," I said. We walked out of my room together.

"My pleasure, Sydney, I mean, you really do look so great." Jill said, and for a split second she sort of sounded like herself. Then she drew in her breath in a sound a lot like a sob. "Are you really going to help him? Please say you're going to help him."

"I'll do my best," I told her. "I can't promise that it'll work, but I'll try."

"Don't call him a monster," she said, her voice fierce all of a sudden. "He hates that. I don't like it, either."

"I know," I said, wincing. "I won't."

"Good," she said.

We stopped talking after that. When we stepped outside, we were met with a wave of heat and humidity almost as oppressive as the silence between us. The heat of the day was reaching a breaking point, and a thunderstorm seemed all but a given.

Jill turned away from me and walked off down the paved pathway to her own dorm room without saying goodbye. Her steps were sort of awkward, as if she were about to fall over any moment. I got out my phone and sent Eddie a quick text, apprising him of the situation with Jill.

Then it was time to turn my attention to my other, bigger problem. I bent my head and sent up a brief and wordless prayer to God. I wasn't precisely sure what I was praying for, but I hoped that He understood me anyway.


	21. I: Healing Part 1

_Revised November 7, 2012. Had to fix a li'l plot hole. _

**Chapter 18: Healing (part 1)**

I climbed into Latte and tossed my alchemist kit into the back seat, not sure if I'd need it, but glad I had it along. Before I pulled the car out of the parking space, I rolled down the windows, wanting to feel more in touch with the world. The air was thick, humid and hot, and the clouds above the setting sun were full and dark gray, promising heavy rain soon. The birds were silent. Everything felt hushed, like the whole world was waiting for the storm.

As I shifted the car into drive, I tried to shift my mind into problem solver mode. What I could do to help a vampire who was overcome with spirit darkness? It wasn't exactly something I had been taught in my alchemist training. Should I just talk him into going to sleep, then meet him in a dream and heal him? The thought of seeing him in my pine forest again, or lying close to him, touching him, healing him…. It was more than I thought I could handle.

No. I would just have to help him in the waking world. But would that even work? Would he even be _reachable_? I remembered what he had been like the first time I had really seen him in the grip of spirit darkness. We had been visiting Venice in a dream, and it was as if he were in a different world, lost and unable to hear me. I had a strange feeling in my chest now thinking of Venice – a feeling like swallowing something jagged, something that went down sideways. It _hurt_. But I couldn't stop thinking about it. I remembered walking down the creaking wooden hallway that led back to his room in Palm Springs. I remembered how he'd stared at me as I had undressed him for bed… and his gentle hands on me as he had undressed me….

I couldn't think about this. I tried to focus on the pain in my face and in the bruises on my arms, hoping it would keep me grounded in my body and the reality of here and now. The past was over. It couldn't happen again, ever. I had made the best decision for both of us, and now we just both had to wait for the pain to subside. Even if it looked like my pain never would. And tonight would be a good test of my resolve. I'd help him somehow, and then I would leave and go back to my empty dorm room in Amberwood and lie in my bed and stare at the ceiling. I swallowed heavily.

I parked the car and got out, toting my alchemist kit and purse. I looked up at the sky, sending up another quick prayer, and I saw gray billowing clouds hiding the sun as it slipped below the horizon. Gusts of wind made it hard to walk as I made my way down the path to the exterior door of the apartment complex. When I got there, I realized that the exterior door was locked. I stood there a moment, trying to think of a way to get in and hoping I'd figure something out before it started to rain. But then I heard footsteps coming up the walk, and an idea struck me. I began industriously rooting through my purse, as if looking for something. The couple who approached the door – they looked to be in their late 20s, and I wondered if they knew the vampire – let themselves in and kindly held the door open for me. They gave me a weird look, probably because of my black eye. I smiled and said, "I guess my purse is too big, huh? I can _never_ find my keys." The girl smiled knowingly, and the man nodded politely. After that, they didn't pay much attention to me as I walked in behind them, and we parted ways at the second floor.

When I got to the vampire's door, I paused, not sure what I should do to get inside. Should I just ring the doorbell? There was no way he'd answer. I thought about using the alchemist technique I knew for melting door locks, but since that would have caused property damage, I discarded the idea. As I stood there in the hallway, thinking and running my fingers through my wind-tossed hair, I heard what sounded like something smashing against the wall inside the apartment. That should have frightened me, I guess, but it didn't. It just increased my resolve to get inside.

Suddenly, I remembered something. The day before the fight, before everything had gone so horribly wrong, he had shown me the key he had hidden under the mat for me, in case I ever wanted to get inside. No way had he left it there – had he? I checked under the doormat and there it still was: the shining silver key.

My heart caught in my throat as I knelt to pick it up. What did it mean? Had he just forgotten that it was there? Or was it possible that he had deliberately left it there for me? Either way, I was going to use it. I pushed my shoulders back and held my head up high, then opened the door. I tried not to gasp aloud at what I saw.

The sun had almost set by then, and the room was almost dark, lit only by one small desk lamp in the corner. All the windows were open and the curtains were streaming wildly in the wind. The air was as warm and humid inside as it had been outside. One of the chairs was broken, and several others were overturned, as were a few other pieces of furniture.

The vampire, wearing only a pair of dark jeans, stood in the middle of a pile of broken plates. He held several more plates in his hands. He turned and looked at me. "Hello, my beautiful golden-eyed girl," he said. He threw a plate at the wall in front of us and it broke loudly. I jumped slightly at the sound, and he gave me a weird grin and threw another plate. Smash! "Would you care" – smash! – "to step inside" – smash! – "my gracious living room?"

I was stunned into silence.

He looked away from me. "She's here," he said, to no one in particular. "You see that? The sun sets, and she appears. She came to tell me what a monster I am."

Not sure what else to do, I reached for the light, but he saw the movement of my arm and said, "Don't do that. Don't turn on the light." He scrutinized my face as if really seeing me for the first time. "Why do you have a black eye?"

I closed the door and took a few steps into the room, setting my purse and alchemist bag down on a table that was right-side-up. "It's nothing," I said.

"Everything is nothing," he said, then peered at me again. "Why are you here? I told you to stay away. Did you come to tell me I'm a monster? Because I already know that."

"I came to help you," I said. "I mean, if you don't mind. I know you said –"

The vampire threw his last plate at the wall by the TV, then turned to look at me. "You should go," he said. Then he turned and looked at the corner of the room and said to no one, "She should go. She's going to go anyway. They all go. There is no one."

A silent flash of lightening, far in the distance, lit up the room for a moment, and in that flash, I saw him clearly. He was unshaven, and his hair was messy, and not in deliberately so. His stance was that of someone bearing a terrible weight, a misery that was almost killing him. It was like seeing someone in intense physical pain. I had never seen him this bad. I felt tears come to my eyes, but blinked them away. I had to stay calm.

"I'm not going to go," I said, taking a few steps closer. "Jill could sense that you weren't ok. I came to help." As I got closer, I could see that his feet were bleeding, no doubt from stepping on the broken plates. A silence fell over the room, and then a clap of thunder sounded from outside. I did some quick calculations. Based on the interval between the lightening and the thunder, the storm was probably about thirty miles away.

"And how are you going to help me?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But at least you shouldn't be alone."

He edged towards me, looking a little more lucid than he had a moment ago. "You're better off without me, Sage. Go, be free! You can't love me. So go date your human guy. Go fall in love with someone who won't get you in trouble with everyone you care about. Go fall in love with someone who isn't a monster. You'll be better off."

"Your feet are bleeding," I said. It came out in a strange half-sob, and I again sternly told myself to pull it together.

He looked down at his feet, then shrugged. "Whatever. There's no point to anything I do. It's so dark…. What's the point? It's always with me, Sydney. The darkness." He took a half step towards me, and at that moment, another flash of lightening lit the sky, framing him in mid-motion. I knew he saw me too, lit by the lightening, and I wonder what he saw on my face.

"I know," I said. I crossed the room to him. "I know about the darkness. I don't know what to do about it. But in the meantime, there's no reason to let your feet bleed. Come on. Sit down." I took his arm, meaning to lead him to his couch, but just as I touched him, thunder crashed outside, and inside of me, there was that lightening, that same connection I had always felt when we touched. I stood motionless, and when I looked at him I saw him staring at me. I pushed myself back into my businesslike motion, and half-pulled him over to the couch. He grew oddly docile, and let me lead him, leaving a trail of blood on the floor as he walked.

I grabbed a towel that was dangling on the back of a chair and put it over one end of the couch, then maneuvered him so that his feet were resting on it. He didn't fight me. He just… stared at me. I got my alchemist kit and opened it up, getting out my container of wound preparation lotion and a stone magnet. I calibrated the stone magnet to the frequency of the china, and knelt down by the end of the couch.

"What are you doing?" he asked, as I moved the magnet over his foot, drawing out the tiny slivers of china that were in his wounds.

"Fixing you up," I said, brusquely. The stone magnet was an amazingly useful piece of alchemist technology. It was sad that the rest of the world had to content itself with magnets that worked only on iron when we had ones that worked on anything and everything.

"It hurts," he said.

"I know," I said. "But those pieces have to come out. You'll feel better when I'm done."

"There's no point cleaning my wounds," he said. "They're going to put me away in a padded room. Did you know that?"

Again, I remembered the awful nightmare I had seen and my heart lurched. The idea of this vibrant person in a cell seemed like a crime. Another flash of lightening, bigger this time, lit up the room, and I met his eyes. Green eyes. My favorite color, Jill had noticed. Did she know why? The thunder that sounded moments later was very loud. The storm was getting closer every second.

I kept my tone light as I spoke. "A padded room? How big will it be?" I asked, opening the bottle of wound preparation.

"Tiny," he said.

"Will it have fast wi-fi?" I asked. "And cable? Because if so, it might be nicer than my room at Amberwood." I caught a ghost of a smile on his face when I said that. "This will help you," I added, as I applied the lotion to the cuts on his feet. "It's a combination of disinfectant and healing catalyst, and it has built in anesthetic properties which will kick in shortly. It'll make sure that you heal even more quickly than you usually do."

"It's cold," he said. He winced and tried to pull his foot away.

"You'll be glad when your cuts stop hurting," I said. I held onto his ankle with my other hand and continued applying the lotion, then moved to the other foot. A gust of wind from the open window blew my hair back, out of my face, and another lightening flash lit the room.

"Why do you have a black eye?" he asked, again.

"It's nothing," I said, as I had before.

"It wasn't me, was it? I didn't do that, right?" He sounded so plaintive that I stopped what I was doing and looked at him.

"Of course not," I said. "You would never hurt me."

"I would never hurt you," he repeated.

"Never," I said, and squeezed his uninjured big toe gently. He smiled, and I bent back to my task.

I always kept basic medical supplies in my alchemist kit, because it was hard to know when you might need them. I pulled some supplies out of my kit now, and then cut several strips of gauze and laid them in a neat pile on the couch. When I was done with that, I handed Adrian the medical tape and a pair of scissors. "Cut off some bits of tape and give them to me when I ask for them," I told him.

I expected him to fight me, but he didn't. Maybe he was as affected by our proximity as I was. He was quiet as I applied a few pieces of gauze, and he handed me bits of tape when I asked for them. For a few minutes, the only other sound in the room was the wind and the occasional crash of thunder, louder each time. I had almost finished when he spoke again. "Who did give you the black eye, then? It wasn't me. Who was it?"

"It wasn't anyone important. Don't worry."

"If it was your new boyfriend, I'll kill him," he said, almost casually.

"That's not necessary," I replied, applying more gauze. "And I don't have a new boyfriend, you can be sure of that."

"It is necessary," he said as lightening again lit the room. "No one should hurt you. Ever."

"I agree," I said. "Can I have more tape?"

He handed me another piece of tape, saying, "I'll at least beat him up, if you tell me who it was. I might not be a dhampir, but I will beat up anyone who hurts you."

I applied the last piece of gauze. "Thank you for the offer, but it's ok. I beat him up myself."

He laughed, sounding almost normal, and handed me the needed piece of tape without being asked. "That's my fierce girl," he said. "Oh, I love that." He smiled, and it was a genuine smile.

The words almost made me lose my balance. His old pet name for me, the affection…. My heart started beating wildly. "I thought you were done with me," I said, trying to keep my tone level.

"I'll never be done with you," he said. I looked up at his face. It was hard to read his expression, especially in the low light of the room.

I dropped my eyes and put the last piece of tape on his foot, saying, "You're ok now. You should keep off your feet for a day maybe, let them heal up." Then I began packing up my kit.

"Thank you, Nurse Sage," said the vampire. "You've done your duty here. You can report back to Jill and tell her I'm ok."

"I don't know if you're ok," I said, knowing it was quite possibly the understatement of the year. What else could I do to help him? I felt at a loss. "At least let me help you clean up the apartment a little," I said, standing up again. It was busy work, and I knew it.

"No," he said. In a quick, graceful movement, he was standing and reaching for me. I meant to duck him, as I had practiced in self-defense lessons, but I was so mesmerized by his body's movement that I couldn't move. I gasped wordlessly, but let him grab me and pull me back onto the couch on top of him, my back to his bare chest. He held me still against him, not saying a word. One of his arms was around my waist, holding my arms, and I could feel his breath on my neck. I could smell his shampoo, his cologne, and that scent that was just … him. He nuzzled his forehead against my bare shoulders and neck. Then he leaned me slightly to his right, pressing me against the cushions of the couch, so that we were at right angles to each other. He was looking at the left side of my face – the bruised side. "Who hurt you?" he whispered. "Who was it?"

"No one important," I whispered.

"Then I guess it really wasn't me," he murmured. "Because I'm kind of a big deal."

Then he leaned forward and, to my astonishment, gently licked at my bruised cheek. I pulled away from him slightly, but with his free hand, he gently turned my face towards him so that he could reach me better, and he slowly ran his tongue all over my bruises. I closed my eyes, wondering if he could taste my blood in the tiny cuts here and there on my face. I knew I should move away, but the truth was that it just felt too good. Maybe a little bit of vampire endorphins was seeping through my compromised dermis. Maybe it was just because of how I felt about him, how much I'd been wanting him to touch me for basically every second of the past three weeks. Probably it was both.

I was telling myself that I really had to get up, had to move away, when I began to feel waves of hot and cold wash over me. At first I thought it might just be my reaction to the moment, to his strange caress and his nearness. But the feeling intensified and I knew for sure then that he was using spirit to heal me. The feeling was a little like that feeling when a limb that has been asleep begins to wake up – a tingling that is almost painful. I wanted to tell him not to heal me, that he'd already used too much spirit, but his touch, his nearness, his scent, were all so intoxicating that I couldn't possibly pull away.

After a minute, he stopped licking me, and the feeling passed. I opened my eyes and met his gaze. We lay there on the couch, the wind from the open window blowing over us. I could feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed, could feel my heart pounding in my chest. I felt… well, thunderstruck. But then he suddenly sort of rolled out from under me and stood up.

"There," he said, and immediately began pacing back and forth. I stared at him from the couch. "Patient becomes the nurse now. And I made a truth-teller out of you, for once. Now there really _isn't_ anything wrong with your eye." He looked me up and down. "Your eyes should be golden, not black."

"Thank you," I said, sitting up. I tried to sound businesslike, but I think I failed at it. I was still distracted by how it had felt to lie against him. There was nothing monstrous about this person at all. He was just a hurting, frightened person.

He continued pacing, muttering, "Golden, not black, golden, not black," again and again. I didn't know what to say or do. Then I saw that he was getting close to the broken china on the floor and sprang to my feet.

"Sit down," I said. My voice was too loud, too harsh. He looked up at me. "Please," I added. "You'll hurt yourself again on those plates. Let me clean it up. Where is your broom?"

He began to laugh, but it was that strange laugh again, and it unsettled me. "You're so normal, Sage," he said. "You're so normal. Broom. Normal." He laughed again, but sat down on the couch as requested.

"I'll go find it," I said, heading for the kitchen, glad to get away from him for a minute so I could clear my mind. It was so confusing. What was I doing here? Was I even helping him at all?

Another flash of lightening lit the kitchen as I entered the room. By the pale light of the microwave clock, I found a small broom and dustpan kit under the sink, and I got them out. Then I paused for a moment, looking around.

I hadn't been here in a few weeks, but the kitchen looked surprisingly clean. A few dishes in the dish rack served as signs that he'd actually cooked and cleaned up after himself. He really had been holding it together, until tonight anyway. In some ways, I was proud of him for not going back to his old habits of drinking and god-knows-what. On the other hand, why should he be doing well when I had been living in a weird, half-alive state?

I turned to go back to the living room, but a flash of lightening revealed the vampire, standing in the doorway, silently looking at me. How long had he been there? Thunder peeled outside. The storm was only a mile or so away now, I thought. I could smell the oncoming rain through the open window.

He took two steps towards me, and the broom and dustpan fell out of my hand. "You probably shouldn't be on your feet like this," I said, but the words came out in a whisper.

He didn't seem to have heard me. "I'm a vampire, you know," he said. He was slightly unsteady on his feet, but his gaze was strong, and focused on me.

"I knew that," I said.

"Did you really?" He didn't seem to need a reply, and I didn't know what to say anyway. "I'm a vampire," he said again after a moment. He looked up at the ceiling, then down at the floor. "That's why she dumped me," he said, to no one in particular. Then he turned his gaze back on me, and it hit me like a physical presence. "You're so normal," he said, repeating what he'd said a few minutes ago. "A nice little human girl who's afraid of my fangs, afraid I'll bite her, afraid that I'll want to take her to bed and then just _take_ her." He took another step towards me. "You're afraid of me as both man and monster, aren't you?" he said.

"I'm not afraid of you," I said. It was true, too. He looked a little frightening, yes, but I knew him too well. I knew, that even in this state, this man would never hurt me.

"You should be afraid," he said, advancing on me. "Because I _do_ want to bite you. I want to taste your blood." I felt frozen in place, almost hypnotized by his green eyes. He backed me against the wall, then slid his hands down my arms to gently pin my hands behind my back. I knew I could get away if I wanted to, but the truth was that I didn't want to.

He leaned forward, his lips by my ear, and I felt his breath on my neck. I knew that if I leaned forward slightly, I'd be able to put my lips to his cheek. "Of course I want your blood," he murmured. "I want _you_. I adore you. And I _want_ you. I want to kiss every part of you. I love the taste of your skin." He licked my neck, and I shivered slightly. I should move, right? Then why didn't I?

"I want you in my bed," he whispered, directly in my ear. "I want you naked in my bed, and I want to fuck you, oh god, I want to fuck you." He moved to look me right in the eye, his lips just a fraction of an inch from mine. If he leaned forward just a tiny bit.… "Did you hear me?" he whispered. As he spoke, his hands clutched my wrists harder.

"Yes," I breathed, so quietly that I think that a human wouldn't have heard me. I had an image of the two of us in his bed, no clothes in between us this time, and his hands pinning my wrists down on the silky sheets…. I tried to clear the image, but he was so close. His scent filled my nose. The images swam in my head. My skin tingled, wanting to be touched.

"Good," he said. "Because I need you to know that." He leaned back slightly, and then, holding both my wrists in one of his hands, he slid his other hand up my side, roughly, untucking my shirt a little. He was so warm against me. My eyes were wide, as if I'd forgotten how to blink. My heart was beating so hard that I thought I might collapse. His fingers played with the strap of my tank top, then he ran two fingers up my neck to my face.

"I want it to be just you and me alone in the world," he murmured. A lightening strike shot through the sky outside, and his face was framed by the flash of light. There was such intensity to his eyes, an intensity I'd never seen before. "I want to be inside of you. I want to look in your eyes as you lose control…." Thunder crashed, very loudly now, just outside the window, and he trailed off, moving his thumb over my lips.

No one had ever said anything like this to me before. I had never even heard anything like this in a movie, or read it in a book. I didn't know how to react. It didn't seem real. After so long without him in my life, with only those brief, awful, belligerent moments to satisfy me, I was drowning again, deluged in him, and in the feelings he stirred in me. I stared at him, eyes wide, throat empty of words.

"I want all of those things," he said, after a moment. "I can't be ashamed of wanting things like that. I may be a monster, but I'm also a man, and you… you're my girl. Or at least, you _were_." He let go of me, stepped back suddenly, and looked away.

The contact was broken. It was like being splashed with cold water, or being jolted out of a dream. I wanted him back, wanted him pressed against me again, but I felt like I couldn't move. I felt stunned by the frankness of what he had said, and equally stunned by the fact that it hadn't scared me. The things he was saying were… honest. And God help me, I wanted most of that too. I tried to speak, but couldn't make a single sound.

"You blamed me for even wanting it," he went on. "For wanting you." His voice was soft now, and he still wasn't looking at me. "Never mind that I didn't push you, or force you. There were dozens of times I could have bitten you, could have torn your clothes off, could have done any number of awful things. But I never did. I never would, no matter how badly I wanted you." He looked up at me, and his green eyes were shining, so full of emotion that it almost broke my heart. "How could I hurt you, Sage?" he said. "You're part of me. I'd never, ever, hurt you, or even let anyone else hurt you. How could you think that about me? I know what I dreamed, but how could you think that I'd hurt you?"

I wanted to tell him that I understood now. The monster I had been afraid of was inside of everyone, even me. The important thing was how much we controlled it, and when and how we chose to let it out.

I wanted to tell him that I had been so wrong to blame him for his desire, when the truth was that I felt desire too.

I wanted to tell him that I had been angry at myself more than anything, angry and ashamed and frightened, so goddamn frightened, and relying on anger to keep me powered and moving, instead of facing the truth.

But as always, the words got stuck in my throat. My mouth was so dry. I swallowed as lightening flashed outside, the thunder only a second behind it now. I croaked out, "I know you wouldn't hurt me."

"It's not enough, though," he said. "I can't change the fact that I'm a Moroi. And you can't accept what I really am. It's funny." He gave a joyless laugh. "No other Moroi or dhampirs can quite accept _who_ I am. You've never had trouble with that, but it's _what_ I am that you can't face. And now you can't even speak my name."

"I tried…" I said, but couldn't find any more words to follow.

"And no matter what I do," he said, "the darkness always comes back for me. I can never be good enough for you."

"It isn't your fault," I said, hoping that he could understand me. "I know you've done your best. You've done amazing things. The darkness only came because you were saving people's lives."

"I could save a million people," he said, looking down at his feet. "You'd still see me as a monster." Lightening and thunder crashed outside, simultaneously. The storm was on us now, and huge drops of rain began pounding on the roof.

"You're not a monster," I whispered. I was trying to keep my emotions in check but it just wasn't working.

"But I am," he said. "I must be."

"No, you're not," I said, in a choked voice.

He looked up at me. "I'm not?"

Somewhere inside of me, the dam broke. And words came out in a flood. "You're not," I said. "_I_ am. I'm the monster. I was frightened, and I was mean. I lied to both of us, and I blamed you for everything that scared me. _I'm_ the monster. You're _Adrian_. And I'm so sorry. I'm _so sorry_…." I held out my hands, still feeling stuck in place.

He looked at me, his eyes asking me just one question. I nodded, a tiny movement, and at that, he closed the distance between us, pulling me into a fierce kiss. His hands clutched at my back and the pressure of his lips on mine made it difficult to breathe. He kissed me over and over, and I kissed him back, tasting the salt of his tears and my own. I ran my hands over his bare back, loving how it felt to have his skin at my fingertips again after so long. After a few long moments, we pulled away and stared at each other. In that look, it was as if a whole conversation passed between us, a conversation of apology and comfort and… well, something like love.

"Sydney," he whispered.

"Adrian," I whispered back, and he smiled. So I said it again, louder this time, trying to drown out the thunder and lightening outside. "Adrian, Adrian, Adrian!"

He looked at me as if he were going to say something, but then he just kissed me again, even harder than before, pulling me to him and spinning me slightly in his arms before pushing me against the wall near the doorway to the kitchen. He kept his arms around me, grasping me so tightly that it almost hurt, and then he bent to my neck, kissing and gently biting me. I leaned against the wall, holding tight to him. I gasped as I felt a slight scrape of fangs, and he pulled back, looking at me, wide-eyed. I dove for his neck, then, too, loving the noises he made when I bit him gently, loving the way the taut muscles of his back felt as I clutched at him.

Then I tightened my grasp around his waist and pushed him a few steps from the wall and out through the kitchen door into the hallway, using our body weight to pull us around the corner. We stumbled and wheeled, clutching at each other, then fell against the hallway wall. Adrian took the brunt of the impact with his body and let out a quiet "oomph!"

"Did I hurt you?" I gasped.

"Oh, God no, Sydney," he breathed, and I leaned against him, pinning him against the wall as I kissed his neck. He let out a soft moan and then pushed us a few steps away from the wall. He wheeled around on one foot so that his back was facing towards his bedroom door, and began walking backward, still kissing me. We staggered down the hall and when we got to his door I reached an arm past him to turn the doorknob. We pushed it open with our weight and fell through.

We continued taking halting steps towards his bed, unable to stop kissing long enough to even look where we were going. My tank top was too thick, too much of a barrier between us, and I pulled it up over my head and threw it on the floor. I wanted skin against skin. The few weeks we'd been apart had been so awful. I had felt chilled to the bone. This was warming me, bringing me back to life. We would make love, I decided. We'd make love and somehow it would heal both of us. It was the solution.

We fell onto the bed as the lightening lit the room, him on top of me, and my hands fumbled against his belt buckle and then his zipper. He kicked his jeans off and they fell into a denim puddle at the foot of the bed as the thunder pounded again. He pulled the straps of my bra down, moving the fabric to kiss my breasts. I reached behind my back to undo the clasp, and he pulled the bra off roughly and threw it somewhere. Then his fingers went to my shorts and undid the button and zipper. He looked me in the eyes as he pulled off my shorts. I kicked them off like he had done with his jeans, and he helped pull them away.

Now we each wore only our underwear. It was the closest to naked I'd ever been with him, or with anyone. We kissed for a while as the thunder crashed outside, as the rain fell in through the open windows. We kissed as if we were unable to stop, as if we'd _never_ stop. His lips, his tongue, his fingers…. The smell of his hair, the taste of his skin…. The feel of his back under my fingertips as I dug my fingertips into his muscles, the sounds he made when I let my fingers trail across the front of his boxers…. And his eyes, meeting mine, the greenest things I'd ever seen, and the most wonderful. His fingers crept under the waistband of my underwear, and I did cry out this time, biting his shoulder as his fingers found my most sensitive spot. It felt so good – overwhelming, but good, and I wanted to get overwhelmed. I wanted to just let go and let this take over. I let go of everything else, every worry, every doubt, ever other conscious thought. I just held on to Adrian, and the sounds of the rainstorm outside were almost drowned out by my own gasps.

But then, all of a sudden, he pulled away from me. I let out a sort of questioning sigh as he leaned back, creating space between us. What was happening?

"Wrong," he said, his eyes wild. "All wrong. Can't do this."

"Adrian," I whispered. "It's ok." I tried to pull him into an embrace but he got to his knees, straddling me.

"Shouldn't," he said. "Can't. It's wrong. I'm not even _here_ today." He looked at me, desperation in his eyes. "Can't you see that, Sydney? I'm not here." He got out of bed suddenly, then began pacing back and forth. Every movement seemed unfocused and random.

Immediately, I realized my mistake. The spirit darkness was still in him, still harming him. Of course it was. It was just that we had momentarily kept it at bay with an influx of hormones. But that band-aid couldn't hold for long, and it was clear that already, Adrian was losing his grip on reality again.

"You're _here_," I said, trying to make my voice soothing. "So am I." I got out of bed and went to him. "We're both here. We're together." I put my arms around his waist, trying to hold him still. My heart was pounding, and every inch of my skin was still begging to be touched, but I tried to calm myself so that I could calm _him_. The rain was pounding down now. A flash of lightening lit the room again, but the thunder was far behind it this time.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I can't think straight, Sydney. It's the… It's the…"

"The darkness," I said, gently.

"Yes," he said, and buried his face into my shoulder, bending over because I was so much shorter than he was.

We stood there for a long while, swaying a little. We put our arms around each other's waists and I held on as tightly as I could. "It's ok, Adrian," I whispered, again and again. "It's ok."

He straightened up, pulling away slightly, then looked down at me. "You came back," he said. He brought one hand up to cup one of my breasts. The touch was gentle, almost hesitant.

"Yes," I said, and gasped slightly as his thumb stroked my nipple. The touch was electrifying, but the way he was looking down at me was more awe-struck than sexual.

"Why?" he asked. "Why did you come back?" He kissed my forehead.

"Because you needed me," I said. _And?_ prompted the Traitor from inside my mind. _Why else? _"And…." I said, and my voice broke. "Because I missed you so much."

He kissed a tear off my cheek. "I left the key out for you," he said. "I kept hoping you'd come back."

"Well, I did," I said. We leaned our foreheads together.

"Thank you for coming back," he whispered. His thumb stroking my breast was making me shiver.

"Thank you for taking me back," I said, my words a sigh of delight as he bent to kiss my neck, his thumb still stroking back… and forth… and…

"My pleasure," he murmured from somewhere near my ear, then bent and kissed my other breast, his tongue lightly circling the nipple. I dug my fingers into his hair and swayed on my feet, trying to stay upright as the sensations shot through me. I knew this wasn't right. This wasn't what either of us needed. But it felt so good.

"We have to stop," I gasped. "You're… not feeling well."

He pulled away, slowly, then straightened up. He kissed me lightly all over my face and I closed my eyes. When I opened them again, he was staring at me. "I'm trying so hard," he whispered. "I'm trying to keep it together. I want to be here with you. But I really don't know how much longer I can hold on."

"I'll help you," I said. "We'll figure it out." I hugged him close.

"I feel like I'm going to die," he whispered.

"I won't let you," I said.

"The hardest thing in this world is to live in it…." he said.

I kissed him on the cheek. "It can be, I think," I said. "It has been lately."

"I'm not myself," he said. "Maybe you should go." But he made no effort to let go of me – if anything, he held on even tighter.

"I'm not leaving," I said, resolutely.

"It's just that…. This isn't how I want to be when you and I are first together like this. I can't let it be like that for you. You deserve better. You deserve…. Oh God, Sydney. It hurts to think."

"We'll figure it out together," I said again, not sure what to do.

Suddenly he picked me up and in one graceful movement spun me up off the floor and deposited me on the bed. He crawled on top of me, pinning me against the silky sheets again. He kissed me roughly for a long moment, and though I knew I shouldn't, I kissed him too, arching my back to get closer to him. Then he stopped and leaned back, stroking my hair away from my face and staring as if he were trying to memorize my features.

"I'm going to slip away," he said. "I know it. There'll be nothing left of me. The spirit will just take my mind and I'll be gone. They'll put me away. They'll chop me up." He dropped his hold on me and rolled to his side. "What if it already happened?" he said, looking around the room wildly. "What if I've already lost my mind? What if I'm hallucinating you? I wanted you to come back so badly…"

"I'm really here," I said. I crawled on top of him, straddling him, holding him steady. I saw – well felt, really, with my leg – his excited condition. I was feeling the same way, though it probably wasn't as obvious, and I had to try to pull myself together too. "You're not crazy. It's ok, Adrian. Just stay with me."

My mind was racing. How could I help him? It had been wrong to go this far. I knew it. He had implied that the reason that we shouldn't make love was that he wanted to protect me. But this wasn't really about me. He was in no condition to have sex, regardless of how many times he may have done so before. It would be too intense emotionally for him, I was sure. I'd have to find some other way to heal us – not a short cut.

"I've gotten so lost," he murmured. "I don't know if I can come back this time."

"I'll find you and bring you back," I said, hoping I sounded more confident than I felt. "I'll always _bring_ you back." How _could_ I, though? Could I get him to fall asleep, then meet him in a dream? Would he even be able to handle a spirit dream in his current state? It was the only hope I had. I had to at least calm him down. Idly, I thought that it was a shame that sex was out of the question, as the release of prolactin and vasopressin at orgasm were well known to cause intense drowsiness, at least in humans. But I had to try something else.

"Let's just lie quietly," I said. "Just listen to me. Listen to the rain, and listen to me. Close your eyes."

"I don't want to," he said. "I want to look at you." He was still studying my face intently.

"Ok," I said. "That's fine. But listen to me. Ok?"

"Ok," he said. Outside, the rain had calmed to a steady patter.

I thought fast, trying to think of what I could say to calm him. "Imagine…. It's a few years from now," I said, in what I hoped was a soothing voice. "We live in Porto."

"Porto," Adrian repeated.

"Yes." I lay down on my back and Adrian lay half on top of me, leaning on the pillow next to me so he could still look at my face, one of his legs wrapped over one of mine. "We have a little house that looks down on the river. We have a garden in the back of our house, and we let it run wild with purple _Ipomoea _flower vines."

"Hmmm," said Adrian. "_Our_ house." He smiled a little.

"Yes," I said. "Our bedroom face down to the river, and every day we wake up to that view. You'll sleep late, if you want to avoid the sun, and then paint, and I'll work…." I stroked his hair.

"Fixing cars, maybe?" Adrian said.

"Yes," I said. "So during the day, I fix cars, at a garage that we own. It's on our property, so you can come out and see me whenever you want."

"Mmmm," Adrian said. "I'd come out to see you a lot." He kissed my arm. "What would we do at night?"

"At night… we go out and listen to the _fado_ singers," I said. "Then we dance. We're good dancers. Everyone stops to watch us."

"Of course they do," Adrian murmured. "We're awesome. And very good looking."

I smiled. "And then we go home. We crawl into bed and we spend a while looking down at the lights on the river and talking. And then… we make love."

Adrian squeezed me. "That's the best part of the story so far."

"Then we fall asleep together, and we wake up together. We wake up and see the sun shining on the river. You could go back to sleep if you wanted to, but you'd wake up long enough to wish me good morning."

"I'd wake up with you," Adrian said. "I'd keep to a human schedule. I'd want to be with you as much as possible." His breathing was getting slower. Mine was, too. "Do we have a boat?" he asked.

"Of course," I said, smiling. "A nice one. We go sailing sometimes at night, and on the weekends."

"Good. Because I love boats," Adrian whispered.

"I love boats too," I said. I could feel the muscles in his face move as he smiled. He seemed to have calmed down, and I felt peaceful, too. I had almost hypnotized myself with what I had been saying. Adrian was back in my arms. He'd be ok, somehow. I would help him. I would keep him safe.

And then….

Then, I acted without really thinking, without knowing what I was going to do. As I had done so many times in dreams, I reached out to him with my mind. I found that place of imbalance in him, and I tried to right it. I felt that hot and cold sensation run over us, and Adrian grabbed me tightly. It was much more difficult than it had ever been before. His imbalance was greater than what I'd felt before, and I became increasingly aware of the fact that this wasn't a dream and that therefore what I was doing was completely impossible. I tried to shut that thought down, promising myself I'd deal with it later. I did what I could to help rid him of the darkness, then when I could do no more, I stopped.

Adrian sat up and looked at me, his eyes wide. "What was that?"

"I'm not sure, but I think I… did that thing I do sometimes," I said, sitting up too.

"We're not asleep," he said. "Are we?"

"No." I pulled him close again, and we lay back together on the bed, holding each other as tightly as we could.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the rain, gentle now on the windowsill. Then Adrian turned to look at me. I could see that the wildness was gone now from his green eyes. He was more or less back to himself. He smiled and kissed me quickly on the lips.

"Well, Sage," he whispered. "What now?"


	22. I: Healing Part 2

**Chapter 18 – Healing (part 2)**

"Well, Sage," Adrian whispered. "What now?"

"I'm not sure," I said.

"Me either," he said. We looked at each, and then a smile began to spread across our faces. "Me either," he said again, and we both laughed, quietly at first, and then more loudly. I don't know why that was funny, exactly. I think it was the absurdity of the fact that, after all the emotional upheaval we'd been through, that we had nothing that particularly had to be done right now.

"We could see a movie," he said, and for some reason, that just made us laugh harder. We both lay on our sides.

"I hear the new _Mission: Explosion Identity_ movie is good," I said. "There are lots of explosions." I was still laughing.

"I'm holding out for Part III," he said, momentarily stony faced.

"Oh yes," I said. It's supposed to be good. _Part III: Return of the Son of Explosions_."

Adrian laughed, then said, "_Part III: The Last Crusade. With Explosions."_

"_Part III: Explosions Explode," _I said, giggling.

Adrian paused, and then said, "_Part III: Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion Explosion_." This made him laugh even before he was done saying it, and I joined in with him. We both laughed until tears came from our eyes. It had been a while since I had laughed at all, I realized, and laughing with Adrian like this was a release that I think we both needed after all the dramatic stuff that had happened between us.

"Oh gosh," I said, wiping tears from my eyes. "That movie was so bad. Part II, I mean."

"Is that the movie you saw with your date?" A shadow crossed Adrian's face.

"Yes," I said, and all the laughter drained from me. "Oh, god, it was awful."

"The movie or the date?"

"Both," I said. "It just made me miss you more. Even if the guy hadn't been a complete schmuck, he wouldn't have stood a chance. The whole time I was thinking about how much happier I'd have been if you were there instead of him."

He gave me a weak, fleeting smile, then said, "Why did you do it, Sage?"

"I don't know. I thought it'd help me... move on," I said.

"No, what I meant was, why did you leave me in the first place? I mean, I get it that you were upset about what you saw, but why did you break up with me over it? Why didn't you just talk to me?"

"I don't know," I said, stroking his face. "It's so hard to explain. It was a lot of things."

He sighed. "I guess we have a lot to talk about," he said.

"I guess we do," I said.

"Because I really want to sort this all out," he said. "I don't want you ever running away from me again."

"I want to sort it out too," I said.

We both were quiet a moment.

"So do you want to..." He paused, looking doubtful. "Do you want to talk about it now?"

"Not really," I said.

"Me either," he said, shaking his head, and we both started laughing again. "Oh, God, Sage," he said, as we squeezed each other. "I'm so glad you said that. I just can't get all serious right now. I'm too happy you're here." We kissed for a minute, and then lay back on the bed, my head on his chest. "Well, what _should_ we do, then?" he asked me, kissing the top of my head. "It's only eight o'clock."

"Only eight?" I said, and glanced at his alarm clock. The glowing green letters confirmed it – 7:58. It was hard to believe that so much had happened in just a few hours. Well, what did people do at this time of night? "We could have dinner," I said.

Adrian paused, drew in breath to speak, let it out, then drew in breath again. Then he said, "I think that's an excellent idea. I actually am a bit hungry." I got the feeling he was picking his words carefully.

"Me too," I said, and was surprised to find that I actually sort of was. It had been so long since I'd been hungry.

"I don't have much to eat, though," Adrian said, then amended that. "Except for cake. And well, flour and eggs and stuff. Oh! Do you want some eggs? I make an excellent omelet."

I considered that. "We can have the eggs for breakfast," I said. "We'll need something else for now." After I said it, I realized the implications of what I'd said.

Adrian made a low noise in his throat. "Are you planning to stay over, then, Sage?"

"Well... unless you don't want me here," I said.

"I think it's ok," he said. "I could maybe allow it. But what will you tell the school people?"

"I'll figure something out," I said.

"Little schemer," he said, and squeezed me. "So, what do you think, want to order a pizza? You can put... healthy stuff on your half. I don't mind."

"That would be good," I said. "But I'll probably only have one slice, though."

"That's ok," he said. "I'll eat the rest at some point." He sat up in bed, and I scooted away, propping myself on my elbow to watch him as he found his phone. I would watch him doing pretty much anything, especially when he was wearing only a pair of black boxer shorts.

He found his phone on the bedside table. He apparently had the pizza place's number saved, because within moments, he was placing the call. "I'd like a medium pizza delivered," he said, and confirmed his address, which they must have already had on record. "Half with meat on it.… Oh you know, whatever meat you have. Put some of each kind on it. Especially anything that comes from a pig... Yes, of _course_ bacon... Hey man, I go through this with you every time. Don't judge. It's delicious, have you had it? … You're missing out, man. Ok, and on the other half, like, healthy stuff." He held the phone away from his face and said, "What do you want?"

"Spinach... mushroom... peppers, I don't know."

He repeated that and added, "and fresh tomato, I think." He looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded. Fresh tomato was actually my one of favorites on a pizza. I had almost forgotten, as it had been ages since I ordered one. He asked for a few sodas, remembering to make mine diet, and then asked for some paper plates, saying, "All of mine seem to have mysteriously broken recently. It wasn't me."

After he hung up the phone, he tackled me in the bed and kissed me again. "Can we eat the pizza in bed?" he asked.

"It's your bed," I said. "But I do have a relevant question to that point. Do you have a washing machine on the premises?"

"There's laundry in the basement," he said. "I also have clean sheets in the closet."

"I never see any sheets but these," I said.

"That's because the spares are exactly the same as these," he said. "Why would I want anything but black silk sheets?"

"Some people like variety," I said.

"I don't," he said. "When I like something in my bed, I really like it." He gave me a soft kiss that made me feel goofy, then got up. "But yeah, maybe the bed isn't the best idea. Let's have a picnic on the floor." He went to his closet and pulled out a blanket, which he then spread on the floor with a flourish. "See?" he said to me. "I am a romantic guy after all."

"I see that," I said, distracted by the gracefulness of his movements and the general view of his body. I wondered if it would ever seem mundane to me, or if I would always be entranced by the sight of him. I tried to shake off his effects as I got out of bed and went looking for my bra.

"Hey!" Adrian said as I found it and put it back on. "Why would you do a thing like that?"

"My chest was unsupported," I said.

"I could have supported it for you," he said, holding out his cupped hands.

"You could have," I said, "but then how would you have eaten your pizza?"

"You could have fed it to me," he said, getting another blanket and spreading it on top of the first.

"That sounds inefficient," I said, and grabbed a white undershirt of his from his dresser and slipped it on.

"Oh, Sage," he breathed. "You drive me crazy in my clothes. Why is it that you in that shirt is almost sexier than you actually topless?"

"I don't know," I said. "Maybe you're just weird." I stepped close to him, then rested my hands on his shoulders.

"So you think that's weird?" he said, a little breathless. "You think I'm really weird now?"

"That's how I like you," I said.

I meant to just kiss him quickly, but next thing I knew, we were on the floor, me on top of him. I honestly couldn't remember the last minute or two. How long had we been kissing? I pulled away slightly, trying to catch my breath. "Shouldn't we be getting ready for the pizza guy?" I said.

"We will, we will," he said. "But first I have to get this shirt off of you before you steal it and set it on fire." He had said that in a light tone, but then he paused and gave me a sort of strange look. "I'm um, a little mad about that, to be honest, Sage. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be all... serious right now. But... I really wish you hadn't burned my shirt."

"Burned your shirt?" I repeated, confused for a moment, and then laughed. "Oh, Adrian. I didn't burn your shirt."

"You didn't?" he asked, surprised. "But you said you did."

"I didn't really," I said, hugging him. "I just... couldn't think of an excuse not to give it back."

"So... where is it now?"

"Under my pillow back at Amberwood," I said in a small voice.

"Oh," he said. We both rolled over onto our sides and he looked into my eyes. He was quiet for a long moment, and then finally kissed me briefly and said, "I guess you missed me then, huh?"

"Yes," I said, my throat closing up a little. "I missed you."

"And you slept with my shirt... under your pillow?"

"No," I said. There was a pause.

"What did you do with it?"

"Sometimes I wore it to bed," I said, in a near-whisper.

"And other times?"

"Sometimes I just sort of cuddled with it. Like it was a teddy-bear."

He stroked my hair and looked into my eyes, as if the answer to the question in his mind were on my face somewhere. "The real thing was right _here_," he said, finally, patting his chest. "You could have had the real thing, any time you wanted it."

"I know," I said.

"Why did you..." He trailed off.

"I don't really know," I said. "I thought I knew at the time."

We looked at each other. Then Adrian said, "We'll talk about it," he said.

"Yes," I said.

"The important thing is you didn't burn my shirt," he said.

"You can have it back," I said.

"You can hold onto it," he said.

We were quiet for a moment. Then both of us started to talk at the same time. Both of us stopped talking, waited a second, then both spoke again. And then the doorbell rang. "Shit!" Adrian said, and hurriedly stood up and put on his jeans. I put my own jean shorts back on, and we walked out together to the living room.

_A/N: Ok, I know this ends suddenly, but there's a part 3 on the way, and this was as far as I had actually finished. Everyone wanted me to update, so I thought you'd be happy to see that Sydney is staying over with Adrian and that they're still talking! :) _

_The reason for the delay isn't that I haven't been working on it. I have totally been working on it! It's just that this chapter has been very difficult for me to write. I've gone through several drafts, including some that I completely scrapped. I knew the mood and basic plot I wanted to capture, but the actual conversation has been really tough to write, and I didn't want to put up something that I wasn't happy with. _

_Anyway, while this chapter was giving me trouble, I worked on the next one. I also went and wrote a few drafts of a little one-shot. It's from Eddie's POV, and it's about what happened to him while Sydney and Adrian were making up. I might put it up in a day or two if anyone's interested in it. _


	23. I: Healing Part 3

**Chapter 18 – Healing (part 3)**

Adrian opened the door to let the delivery guy in and greeted him pleasantly. Heaven only knows what the guy made of the scene he saw: a tall, fit, pale young man wearing only a pair of jeans, his feet covered in bandages; a girl in a man's undershirt and jean shorts, her hair messed up and her face flushed; and a room in absolute disarray, complete with broken plates and overturned chairs. Adrian seemed unconcerned and dove into some small talk. I went to get my purse, expecting to have to pay for the pizza, but was surprised when Adrian got out his wallet and paid. The delivery guy left with slightly suspicious speed and Adrian closed the door behind him.

"We totally made that guy's day," he said, as he carried the pizza down the hall towards the kitchen. I walked with him, holding the bag with the sodas. "He's going to tell everyone else he sees for days the story of the weird pale guy and the totally destroyed living room. It'll be awesome."

"I was just imagining what he would have thought if you hadn't healed my black eye," I said with a smile. We got into the kitchen and I flicked on the light. "He probably would have called the cops."

Adrian grinned as he put the pizza down on the table. "So," he said, opening the box. "How many slices do you want to start with?"

I looked at the pizza. Each slice was huge, and the idea of eating a whole one made my stomach turn. "Maybe a half a slice?"

Adrian took a deep breath. "If that's what you want, sweetheart," he said, and then began searching through his kitchen drawers, probably looking for a knife. While he did that, I looked around the room, seeing the recent scene of our reconciliation playing out again in my mind's eye. He had stood in the doorway, right _there_. He had pinned me against _this_ wall. We had begun kissing right _here_. All that had happened only about an hour ago. The room looked different with the light on, but the rain was still falling gently outside. I began to feel... strange. I felt like I didn't know if I was happy or sad.

I watched Adrian start to cut the slice of pizza in half, but then I guess he felt my eyes on him because he looked up. He put the knife down on the table and waited for me to say something. But I didn't know what to say. I just looked around the room, and he looked too.

"Yeah," he said. "I know." We both nodded, as if we'd had a whole conversation about how weird it was to be here, where it had happened. He came closer to me, and then took my hands. In some ways, it felt like that whole crazy scene had happened ages ago. But it was just an hour or so. Remembering it now, I felt sort of like crying and sort of like... well, re-enacting select parts of it.

"Are your feet ok?" I asked him, remembering suddenly how badly his feet had been bleeding.

"They don't hurt at all now," he said. "Getting the little shards out helped a lot. And whatever that stuff was you put on the cuts, it really worked."

"You probably shouldn't be walking around," I said.

"I'm fine," he said. "Really."

"You shouldn't have gotten hurt in the first place," I said. "I should never have let it get to that point, where you were... like you were. I should have been taking care of you all along. You needed me."

"You're not my personal healer, Sydney," he said, squeezing my hands. "Don't get me wrong – I really appreciate everything you do for me. But I don't want us to be together because of a reason like that. It would feel like I was using you or something. A lot of people have used _me,_ you know? Either for money or just for... I don't know, amusement, to distract themselves or something. I wouldn't want to use you, not for anything. So I don't want you to feel like you _have_ to heal me, you know, like, a pity thing."

"That's not why I'm with you," I said. "But I believe that we're responsible for the people we care about. And I care about you. I was worried about you even when we were apart. And I want to keep... helping you, whenever you need me. I should have been there for you when the spirit-darkness hit you so badly."

"And I should have been there for you when you got that black eye," he said. "I should have been there to _kill_ the guy. You still haven't told me what happened with that, by the way."

"It's a long story. I'll tell you sometime. And it doesn't matter anymore about that. I mean, you healed me." I remembered him licking my bruises. The memory sent an oddly erotic thrill through my body.

"Not good enough," he said. "I don't want you hurt in the first place. I'm sorry I wasn't there."

"You couldn't have known it was going to happen."

"And you couldn't have known about me and the bus crash," he said.

"But still," I said, flustered. "I still feel like it was my fault."

"It wasn't."

"I'm sorry anyway."

"Me too," he said.

He pulled me to him, and we just held each other for a while. I hoped that the embrace would do more than words had been able to, that somehow our arms and bodies could communicate the rest of the facts of apology and forgiveness. After a minute I tried to pull away, but Adrian squeezed me tighter and I just fell back to him for another long moment.

Finally, Adrian said, into my hair, "The pizza smells fantastic, doesn't it?"

"Ridiculously good," I said. The smell of it had actually filled the small kitchen.

"Ok. In a second I'm going to let go of you, but it's only because I want to eat some of the pizza."

I smiled into his chest. "Fair enough."

"And it's with the understanding that I get to hold you some more later."

"Ok," I said.

"Alright," he said. "Here I go." There was a long pause. "Ok, now." And he let go.

I fought a smile as he stepped back to the pizza box. Then I realized that with no one else around, I didn't have to fight it, and just let myself smile like an idiot. As he began pulling the pieces apart, he looked over at me and grinned too. "You're cute," he said.

"So are you," I said. I watched him mess with the pizza and take a few experimental bites. He let out an exaggerated sigh of delight. "It's good?" I asked.

"_So_ good," he said, then paused. "You know," he went on, with a carefully casual tone, "I thought we weren't going to have serious talks tonight."

"I know," I said. "I didn't mean to start one. I'm not good at this."

"Good at what?" he asked.

"This," I said vaguely, gesturing back and forth between him and me. "No one in my family discusses emotions of any kind. It's almost as if we're not supposed to have them. And, I've never... dated. Never had a fight, never made up. None of this. It's all new to me."

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, it's pretty new to me too," Adrian said, getting a few glasses out of his cabinet. "I've done a bit of what some people might call dating, but... it's never been like this. Not even with Rose. Most of my relationship with her consisted of her borrowing my money and standing me up. So... actually having someone in my life who challenges and supports me... It's different." He gave me a wan smile. "So we're both sort of making this up as we go along."

It had never occurred to me that he didn't really know what he was doing either. I had always assumed that since he had had so much experience with girls, he must know about relationships, too. But I guess dating seriously was as weird for him as it was for me – just in a different way. I took a step closer, then leaned over and gave him a slow soft kiss on the cheek. He smiled at me.

"Look," he said. "How about you let me set up our picnic, and you go make your call to the school? I want to know for sure that you can stay over tonight." He gave me a sort of wicked grin. "I want to know if it's ok to begin feeling really, really, happy."

"It's ok to feel really happy anyway," I said. "But I'll go make the call."

I went out to the ruined living room, found my purse, dug out my phone, flipped one of the chairs right side up again, and sat down to make the call.

"Hello, Sydney," the house mother said, when I got her on the phone. Her tone was solicitous. "Are you feeling any better after... last night?"

Last night? Oh yeah, the punch to the face. "I feel just awful," I said, trying to sound miserable. "It was extremely traumatic. I just want to hang out at my brother Adrian's house tonight, just to give me some distance from the... traumatic event. Because it was so... traumatic."

"Of course, of course," she replied. "That makes sense. Should I make a call and have your other brother released from campus to stay with you, too? And your sister, of course," she added as an afterthought.

I repressed a smile. She was really taken with Eddie. _If she thinks Eddie is hot, she should see Adrian,_ I thought to myself. "Oh no," I said. "Eddie and Jill are busy with schoolwork, and besides, Adrian only has the one pull-out couch."

"Of course, of course," the house mother said again. "Well, in any case, I'm sure that in light of the... event... we can let you stay off campus tonight."

I thanked her, and we said our good-nights.

The mention of Eddie reminded me that I really should call him too, so I did, dreading his reaction.

"Castille," he said, answering the phone.

"Melrose," I said, teasing him. "Come on."

"Sorry," he said. "That was dumb of me. I guess I'm just tired."

"It's ok. So... how is everything on your end?"

"Jill's fine now," he said. "I take it things are good with you and Adrian?"

"Yes," I said.

"Good," he said, but he didn't sound happy.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he said.

"Then why the flat affect? I thought you'd be happy for me."

"This isn't about you, Sydney. It's not about me, either. It's supposed to be about Jill. Our job is protecting her. I'm not sure that your actions tonight really did that."

"What do you mean?" I asked. "I came over here to help Adrian. I managed to calm him down. That helped Jill. What's the problem?"

"I mean... when Adrian felt... romantic, it affected Jill, too. I know that he was in a bad way, but his lack of screening and your decision to barrel on regardless had a serious impact on Jill's mood and behavior."

I paused, not sure what he could mean. I drew in breath to speak, let it out, then drew in more breath. "Do you mean that Adrian and me … kissing... made Jill..." I started to feel acutely embarrassed.

"You guys weren't just _kissing_," Eddie said.

"We weren't having sex," I said. "If that's what you're implying."

"Irrelevant," Eddie said. "Whatever it was, it was intense. Between that and the spirit darkness, she was overcome with Adrian's emotions." He paused, and I wished I could see his face, because his tone was so strange. "She wasn't responsible for her actions," he said after a moment.

"So you're saying she kissed someone, or something like that?"

"Don't worry," he said. "The situation is under control now." I wondered what that meant. If Jill had been unusually and inappropriately "romantic" or "intense" with someone, it'd be a situation for me to clean up. I mean, that's why I was here in Palm Springs – to clean up messes like that. But considering that Eddie wasn't asking for my help, either she hadn't really acted inappropriately – in which case, why would Eddie be upset? – or the only person she'd been inappropriate _with_ was...

Eddie went on. "Also, I wanted to let you know, we'll be skipping the self-defense lesson tomorrow. So I guess I'll just see you at breakfast."

"I actually won't be at breakfast," I said. "I'm staying at Adrian's place overnight."

"Is that a good idea?" he asked. His tone told me that he didn't think it was.

"It's what I need to do," I said, simply.

"So your _feelings_ come first now?" There was some heat to his words.

"Not everything is about the job, you know," I said, as gently as I could. "I hope someday you'll understand that too."

He paused. I hoped he was taking in my words, but when he replied, he gave no sign of it. "Just take it easy for a little while. I mean, in bed."

"Excuse me?" I sputtered.

He sounded a little uncomfortable. "Look, I'm sorry to even have to say anything about it. It wouldn't be my business, except for how it affects Jill. Until Adrian gets his mental shields going again, she's basically a puppet to his moods."

"I'll be careful," I said. I took a deep breath. I realized that it probably wasn't easy for Eddie to say something like that to me, so I pushed away my own annoyance, both at his interference and at the implications of his words.

"Good," he said. "And, I guess I'll say that I'm glad you two worked it out. I don't like to see my friends unhappy. So, anyway. Good night."

"Thanks, Eddie," I said. "Good night."

I hung up the phone and went down the hall to Adrian's room, still thinking about what Eddie had said. The door was open so I just went in, and smiled at what I saw. Adrian had set up a pretty cute little picnic scene. The blankets were spread out carefully, and a few little candles were lit. The "table" – or blanket, really – was set with paper plates, and Adrian had poured out my soda into a glass with one ice cube in it, just like I liked it. On my plate there was the half-slice I had requested, and on his, there were several big meaty slices. The pizza box with the rest of the slices was over to one side, I guess in case we wanted seconds.

"Thanks for setting this all up," I said as I sat down. "It's very romantic."

"I'm a romantic in my heart," he said. He paused. "I'm romantic in my heart, I'm creative in my brain, I'm hungry in my stomach, and I'm horny in my..."

I hit him on the arm. "Enough," I said, giggling. I picked up the pizza slice and took a tiny bite.

"What? You didn't let me finish. It's not what you think."

"Fine," I said. "What were you going to say?" I took another tiny bite.

"I was going to say, 'horny in my _penis_.'"

I giggled again, putting a hand over my mouth, then swallowed my bite of pizza. "That's exactly what I _thought_ you were going to say!"

"I know," he said, giving me his most charming grin. "See what I did there?" He took a bite of his pizza.

We ate and chatted for a bit about pizza and the importance of bacon on said. It was weird how normal we could be when just a day ago we'd been broken up. As we ate, I told him about my conversation with the house mother – he let out a whoop of happiness when I confirmed that I'd be staying over – and then about my conversation with Eddie. I watched the excitement drain from his face.

"So what are you saying? That you don't think we can..." He trailed off.

"Well, I mean, _do_ you have your mental shields in place? I wasn't able to heal you completely, you know. I mean, I think I helped, sure, but..."

"You did a lot," he said. "But you're right. I guess I don't feel 100%." He paused for a moment, closing his eyes, and then after a bit, he opened them again. "I'm trying to put the walls up in my mind, and it feels like I'm trying to pick up a car or something. It's kind of impossible."

"Maybe it's for the best that we wait a little longer to have sex, anyway," I said. "I mean, we do have to... talk. We said we had to."

"Hmm," he said. " Couldn't we have sex and then talk afterward? Because guys have a fifteen or twenty minute refractory period, when we have to rest anyway, so we might as well talk then. And then we can have sex again, and talk again for another fifteen or twenty minutes before we have sex again."

"Hey!" I said, laughing. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he said, affecting a wounded expression. "I mean, really. It'd be good for little Jailbait. She has to learn sometime, right?"

"Adrian!"

"Kidding, kidding," he said. "I don't want to hurt her. She's been through enough. Ok. But we'll talk soon, and I'll feel better soon, and we'll... you know. _Soon_?"

"We will," I said. "Like, really, really soon."

"Really, really?"

"Yeah," I said. "I think you and are on the same page with that."

"Ok," he said. "Good. I guess if we've waited this long, we can wait another... like a week?" He looked at me for confirmation.

"Yeah," I said. "A week, or something."

"I can wait." He chewed a bite of pizza, a contemplative look on his face. "Let's see," he said. "I have you back in my life, I have a bunch of pizza with bacon on it, there's cake in the fridge, you're staying over tonight and I get to kiss and cuddle you all night, my art exhibition is in just a few days, you actually want to sleep with me, and basically, life is great. So... ok. Good. I can handle this." He gave me that grin again, then reached over to me. "You've got a little..." He wiped a crumb from my cheek. "There."

Where he touched my face with his thumb, I felt a sort of trail of sensation that lingered for a full minute after he touched me. I wanted to ask him if it was like that for him too, when I touched him, but decided I'd be too mortified if he didn't know what I was talking about, so I didn't say anything about it. Instead, I asked him about the art exhibition.

"Well, I told you, a while ago, before we... you know..."

"Broke up?" I supplied.

"Yes, thank you, Sydney. Anyway, I told you about an art exhibition that was coming up. Well, it was in Los Angeles last week. I showed a few paintings, and um... Well, 'Boring on Purpose,' you know, the one with Coliseum full of ice cream? Well, it sold."

"Really? That's amazing! I'm so happy for you. Do Eddie and Jill know?"

"I'm sure Jill knows," Adrian said, and I felt kind of dumb for not making the connection. "But I asked her not to tell anybody. I felt kind of weird about it, you know?"

"I can understand that, I guess," I said.

"I hadn't ever wanted to sell that painting, but... You and I were broken up, and the guy offered $500, which sort of surprised me, and so I sold it. And then he asked to see a few more pieces, and he bought one you never saw. I have a picture of it on my phone, want to see?"

"Of course," I said. He showed me a picture of a couple in a Venetian gondola equipped with a steering wheel. The man and woman were each wearing masquerade outfits, including masks. A door floated in the air above them.

"It's just called 'Door in the Air #7' because I have so many like this. But he liked this one, and he gave me $500 for it too. And so, my teacher arranged for me to have a few paintings in an upcoming show in Palm Springs. And um, they might sell. We'll see. I don't know, my teacher says that art is worth whatever people want to pay, and I shouldn't expect to necessarily sell any more, but... it's kind of fun to be hopeful about something. "

"I know what you mean," I said. "Wow, you made a thousand dollars from your art."

"Less if you include the cost of buying paint. More if you include the fifty dollars that Jailbait gave me for that other painting."

"So, I guess now I know where you got the money for the pizza tonight," I said.

"You noticed that, huh?" He smiled. "I just am happy that I can look after myself a little. I mean, I know it isn't a job, like, I don't go to work and punch a clock or whatever people do with clocks." He paused. "Do people actually punch clocks?" I shook my head, not sure if he was kidding. He shrugged and went on. "But yeah, I just hang out here and listen to music and think about things and the paintings sort of appear and... I'm surprised anyone likes them, honestly. But in any case, if I make money from painting, then I guess it's _like_ a job."

I met his eyes and smiled. "I'm really happy," I said. I had meant something like, "I'm happy for _you_," but when I said it, I knew I meant that I was just happy in general. Happy for him, happy for me, happy to be living on a planet with an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere and enough available water to drink... _Happy_.

"Me too," he said, as if shocked that we had that in common, and we both grinned.

We continued to munch on our pizza as we caught up a little on our lives. I told him how my volleyball team was going to finals. He promised to be there "with bells on," and I made him promise that he wasn't being literal. He told me that he'd gotten another letter from his mother, who was still in prison, and I watched the emotions move across his face like a thunderstorm while holding his hand and listening quietly. He was having trouble being so angry at someone he loved so much, and I couldn't blame him for either the anger or the sadness.

Adrian gobbled down two or three slices of his pizza. I didn't eat much. It was weird – I had been hungry, but after two or three bites it was as if my stomach closed up. Still, I managed to eat both half slices, which was sort of a record for me recently. When we decided we were done with the pizza, Adrian went to the kitchen and came back with a slice of cake with orange-colored frosting. "I thought we could split it," he said, sitting down on the blanket and putting the cake down in between us. "You have to try it. It's my invention: _chocolate a la orange_. The cake is chocolate with orange flavor, and the icing is orange cream."

I looked at it doubtfully. "Does it have a magic spell on it?" I asked. I tried to make the words sound casual but as I said them I heard the anger in my voice.

"No," he said, looking uncomfortable. "Listen, Sydney. I know you were upset about that. But I don't want it to be a weird thing between us. All that spell was, was a little compulsion, you know, to make sure that you liked the cake. Nothing evil or mean. But I know that even so, I was wrong to do it, and I really am sorry. I won't do it again. I just wanted you to... eat the cake. "

I looked at him closely. He was looking down at the ground. "Is that all it was?"

"Yes," he said. He looked up at me. "I wanted you to like it and eat it. That's all. No bad motives, I swear." I felt confused. Of course he wouldn't have any bad motives. He cared about me. What bad motives could there be in wanting someone to eat cake? Why did it make me so uncomfortable? "Look," he said. "It's ok. You don't have to have any cake if you don't want any."

I took a deep breath. "I'll have some," I said. "Jill's been talking about how delicious your cake is and I'm curious. And I can see the advantages in dating a man who likes to cook, as it subverts gender roles and suggests that you'll be potentially more accommodating of me and my non-traditional pursuits than other men might be."

He smiled. "You know you get me hot when you talk like that," he said, and picked up a piece of cake with his fingers. "Here," he said. "Try it." I let him feed me a bit of the cake, and as I had suspected it would be, it was completely delicious.

I picked up a bit of cake. "Ok," I said. "If we're going to play this game..." I popped the cake in his mouth, and he ate it. Then he grabbed my hand and put my finger, which was covered in frosting, in his mouth and gently sucked the frosting off. I had been previously unaware that my finger was an erogenous zone, but apparently when Adrian touched me, pretty much my entire _body_ was an erogenous zone.

He fed me another piece of cake, saying as he did, "I never got why, when people get married, they mash cake in each other's face. It's like, 'Hey, darling, I really love you. So in one of my first acts as your spouse, I'm going to mash this cake in your face and ruin your clothes and hair.' It's weird."

"I've always thought that too," I said.

"If you ever marry me, do you promise not to mash cake in my face?"

"I do," I said. "Promise you," I added hastily.

"I do too," he said. "But we're not married yet," he added, and put a dab of frosting on my cheek.

"Hey!" I said. Before I could process the implications of the word 'yet', he was licking the frosting off my cheek. I stared him down when he was done, and then put a dab of frosting on my neck.

"I knew I liked your style, Sage," he said, and licked that off as well before he put a bit of frosting right on his lips. Bit by bit, we fed each other the whole slice of cake, and then we sort of lost a little time, lying on the blanket.

After a while, we cleaned up the mess. Adrian shook the crumbs out of the blankets out the window and then closed the windows, as it had gotten cooler. I got us each a wet paper towel to wipe of the remaining bits of sugar from our faces, and he laughed at my fastidiousness - but used his towel, too. Then we went to the kitchen to clean up our mess. Adrian plugged his iPod into a little speaker, and put on some music while we cleaned up a little. I don't know most modern music, but I liked the songs Adrian played. As it turned out, we made a good team in the kitchen. He washed the glasses and knives, and I dried them and put them away. Then he wiped off the counters with his favorite pine scented cleaner while I put the rest of the pizza away in the fridge and wiped off the little table. Then I went over and put my arms around him, and he kissed the top of my head. The iPod began playing a cheerful song with a sort of slightly reggae beat, and Adrian hummed along with it. "Dance with me, Sage," he said.

I took a step back, salsa style, and we kept our hips together, stepping back and forth. I put my hands around his neck. He still wasn't wearing a shirt, and his skin was smooth and warm under my hands.

"_Oh, we set our dreams to carry us_," he sang softly in my ear, more or less on key. He had such a rich sexy voice. I didn't much care if he was on key. "_And if they don't fly we will run_. How do you know how to dance like this?"

"I'm making it up as I go along," I said softly. "I've seen people salsa dance in movies."

"Physics and geometry?" he murmured.

"Exactly," I said, and we danced.

"_We know now we want more_," he sang. "_A life worth fighting for_."

When the song ended, we looked at each other and grinned. Adrian went over and hit a button on his iPod and the song started again. He put his hands on my waist and we started dancing again. "People would totally pay to watch us dance," he said, as we moved back and forth in the tiny kitchen. "And maybe you can do the big lift, and then I'll tell your dad, 'Nobody puts Sydney in a corner.' It'll be great."

"I don't get the reference," I said.

"It's a dumb movie anyway," he said, and dipped me. Then he considered further. "I take that back. It's a completely awesome movie. We'll watch it sometime. I'd say we should watch it now, but unfortunately, I don't own it." The song ended, and we stood there, hips still close. "But..." He glanced at the microwave to check the time. "We have time. Would you maybe want to watch something? I got a movie that I thought you'd like, last week."

"Last week?" I asked.

"Yeah. I just thought that would probably get back together and we'd watch it then. I mean, I hoped. I hoped so much. And then we did." His smile was a little sad, and I hugged him.

"I'm sorry I made us waste so much time," I whispered in his ear.

"Don't apologize," he said. "Maybe it was ok that it happened. Maybe it kind of had to happen."

I wanted to ask him what he meant by that, but it seemed like serious conversation territory, so I didn't. Instead, we curled up on his couch in front of his flat-screen TV and Adrian put on the DVD he'd gotten. It turned out to be an old Japanese monster movie which he had gotten in Los Angeles' Chinatown for a dollar. The movie told the story of a man who mutated into a giant lobster and had to fight a giant crayfish. It was the stupidest thing I'd ever seen and I enjoyed it immensely. It was dubbed by only two or three different voice actors, so all the parts sounded the same, and the editing was so incongruous that a character who was killed about halfway through the movie appeared a little while later with no fanfare. Adrian and I cracked each other up making fun of it, taking on the voices of the actors and pointing out all the stupid mistakes. We both laughed until we couldn't speak, and it felt... great. Normal. Like we were just a normal boyfriend and girlfriend.

When the movie was over, we kissed as the credits ran. Then we didn't stop when the movie ended and the DVD went back to the menu screen. When the DVD started making a weird annoyed noise at us, Adrian shut it off and we got up and went down the hallway towards his room.

"I guess I'll get ready for bed," I said, and turned towards the bathroom.

"If you're interested, I picked up some things, for like, in case you ever stayed over," Adrian said. "It's all in the bottom left hand drawer in the bathroom, so if you want, you can dig through there."

"Ok," I said, feeling curious. I looked in the indicated drawer, and was surprised to find some brand new toiletry items, including a new toothbrush, a bottle of my favorite kind of facial soap, and a bottle of my favorite moisturizing lotion. I found myself actually putting a hand on my chest, palm down, in a sort of exaggerated expression of surprise. He had gotten all that for me? I brushed my teeth and washed my face, stuff like that, then put some of the lotion on my legs, glad I had shaved in the shower after my volleyball game.

I turned to leave the bathroom, but before I did, I found myself opening up Adrian's medicine cabinet and peeking inside. On a top shelf, there was a bottle of a prescription medication called Eskalith. I took it down carefully and examined it. It was made out to A. Ivashkov and according to the label, it had expired almost two years ago. It was only half-empty. I made a mental note of the drug's name and put the bottle back. On a lower shelf, front and center, was a brown rectangular bottle of cologne labeled _Noir de Noir_. This bottle, at least, was almost empty. I smiled to myself. "Noir de Noir" was French for "night of night." That was Adrian all over. I took a sniff of the cologne and sighed happily. I drank in the feeling: the real Adrian was only a few feet away, and I could just go to him and smell the cologne where it most belonged – on his skin. I could cross the hall and he'd be right there. How did I get so lucky?

When I went back to the bedroom, he was waiting for me on his bed. He smiled when he saw me, looking a little proud of himself. "Did you find everything?"

"How did you know I used that kind of facial soap and lotion?" I asked by way of reply.

"From the scent," he said, as if it should have been obvious. "I'm particular about my products. I figured you would be too. So I sniffed a few at the store, and those were both a match."

"I didn't know you paid attention to that kind of thing," I said.

"It's kind of a Pavlov-thing for me now," he said. "I smell things that smell like you and I..." He sighed.

It was weird how much he and I thought alike. "When did you buy all of these things?" I asked.

"After Porto," he said.

"Oh," I said. I sat down on the edge of the bed. Of course. Porto was when he had almost said... well, what he had almost said. It was when we had talked about the possibility of staying together for a long time. And things seemed beautiful, if terrifying and intense. Things right now were just as intense, I realized. But a lot less terrifying for some reason.

Adrian knelt behind me on the bed and rubbed my shoulders. "It's ok, sweetheart," he said. "You're here now." He kissed my cheek. I put one of my hands on his and squeezed, but couldn't think of how to reply.

"You're so tense," he said, his tone light. I knew he was trying to change the subject, and I was glad. "I'll have to give you a massage sometime soon. But let me get ready for bed first." He kissed me again and scooted past me on the bed.

He went to the bathroom, and I lay back on the bed. I was still wearing his undershirt, and I thought about just taking off my shorts and sleeping in the shirt alone. But I was unaccountably overcome with shyness, and decided to put on pair of his black silk boxers. My jean shorts shimmered a little, becoming longer and darker. I remembered just in time that I was not in a dream and that out here in the real world, I had to change my clothes in the normal way. My shorts were suddenly denim again, and I decided that they always had been.

I got up to rummage in his dresser for a pair of his boxers, and just after I had put them on, he came back from the bathroom. He had shaved and I could smell whatever ridiculously overpriced shave lotion he had used. It smelled amazing, and he looked ridiculously gorgeous. You know. For a change.

"Oh, Sage," he breathed, looking at me from the doorway. "You're head to toe in my clothes now."

"Almost," I said. I unhooked my bra from under the shirt, slid a strap down each arm and around the hand, and pulled the bra out from underneath the hem of the shirt. Adrian watched as if I were performing a magic trick, then turned the light off.

"I will never in a million years understand how girls do that," he said, crossing the room to the bed.

I smiled. "They take us aside in girl school one day to teach us how to do it."

He sat down on the bed and began taking off his jeans. "What else do they teach you in girl school?" he asked. "Do they teach you to wear guys' clothes and drive us crazy?"

"Something like that," I said. My eyes were adjusting to the dark better now and I watched his jeans slide to the floor with interest. "What did you learn in guy school?"

"Nothing worth knowing," he said. "But if you come over here, maybe I'll learn something interesting."

It only took a few steps for me to get to the bed. I stood in front of him and rested my hands on his shoulders. "Like what?"

"What noise you'll make if I do this," he said. He pulled me to him, rolled me over onto the bed, and began kissing my neck. I almost didn't want to satisfy him with a noise, but I couldn't help it. Sooner or later I let out a sort of happy "mmph!" noise, and he stopped. "See?" he said. "I believe in hands-on experience." But then he started up again, kissing with a little more force and energy than before, and after a moment, I felt that tiny scrape of fang that I only had felt once or twice before. He was usually so good about keeping his fangs away from me, and I realized that he was still a little wild, that I hadn't completely healed his darkness. He pulled away slightly, as if embarrassed about having scraped my skin, then ran a finger over the scrape. It didn't even hurt, but I felt him use spirit to heal it up, and could see the apology on his face. I put a hand on his cheek and looked in his eyes, trying to tell him that I wasn't angry. After a little while, I gathered my courage to say what I knew I had to say.

"Let me see your fangs," I whispered.

He looked startled. "Why?"

It was hard to explain. Because I was a scientist? Because I was ready to face the truth? Because I cared about him so much that it made me crazy? "Because I need to see them," I said. "They're part of you." I'd been kissing him for months. I knew where they were in his mouth, even knew how it felt when they scraped my skin. But I'd never really just looked them straight on.

He paused, and then smiled a wide smile, showing his fangs. I looked, unflinching. They were sharp. I reached out a finger and stroked one, then pulled away. He closed his mouth a little, hiding the fangs again, and I put my hand on his cheek. "Are you grossed out?" he asked.

"No," I said. Actually seeing them was less scary than _thinking_ about them was, I realized. Or in my case, _not_ thinking about them. "Does it hurt people a lot when you bite them?" I asked.

"It does hurt for a second," he said. "But soon the endorphins kick in. Then the person feels pretty good. And I never take enough blood to cause harm." He studied me. "I thought you were taught about all of this, as part of your alchemist training?"

"I wanted to get it straight from the vampire's mouth," I said.

"Oh, you'll get it," he said, with a mock-growl, and knocked me over on the bed. He made loud chomping noises at my neck without actually touching me, and it made me giggle. I realized that even just a month ago, right before we broke up, joking like this still would have made me uncomfortable. I grabbed him and kissed him, and as so often happened when we were together, we lost a little time.

"Well, it's all a moot point," I said after a little while. His hand was now on my lower back, and one finger was playing with the waistband of the silk boxers. "I know you say you want to bite me, but you wouldn't like it if you actually did. Lee and the Strigois said that my blood tastes awful, tainted or something."

"I'm sure nothing about you could taste awful," Adrian said. "You _smell_ so good. And your skin _tastes_ so good..." He paused to bury his nose in my cleavage, then looked up at me again. "But it doesn't matter, because I won't bite you. I promise. You could taste like vanilla ice cream! You kind of do, in fact," he added, nuzzling at my shoulder. "But see? I might lick you, or just... you know. Do this a little..." He bit very softly at my earlobe, and a thrill ran through me. "But unless you ask me to, I won't break your skin, no matter how much I want to."

"And you want to?" I whispered.

"So badly," he whispered back. "You'll never really understand it. But it's part of how much I want you. I want to know you, every part of you, but only in ways that you're ok with."

Those words stirred a million images in my head, and I think they had the same effect on him, because after that, I wasn't consciously aware of much for a few minutes. When I sort of blinked my eyes again, we'd been kissing for a long while, my shirt was lifted up to my neck, and we were both sort of panting.

"So you're sure about the whole... no sex thing?" Adrian said softly in my ear.

"Oh God," I said. "I know. It's awful. But... yes. It's for the best. And it's only for a little while longer."

"You're killing me, Sage," Adrian sighed. We both lay back a little on the bed so that we weren't quite touching any more.

"It's killing me too!" I said. "Listen. We'll get your mental shields up ASAP and we'll have that chat and... we'll be ok."

"Soon," he said.

"Soon," I confirmed.

"Ok," he said. Then he pulled me to him and kissed me gently on the cheek. "I know you're right. I do. I swear. And who am I to complain? Twenty-four hours ago I thought I might actually lose my mind and that you were never coming back to me. Now you're here and everything is pretty much alright. I'm happy." He squeezed me.

Then we lay down the way we always had in dreams: me with my cheek resting on his chest, listening to his heart, one leg draped across his legs, one arm across his waist; him with one of his arms around my waist, the other stroking my hair. I realized that this was the first time I could expect to fall asleep with him and wake up with him too.

"I can actually say 'see you in the morning,' Sage," Adrian said. "That's kind of cool."

"First time," I said softly.

"Are you tired?" he asked.

"I am, actually," I said. "It's been a long 24 hours."

"For me too," he said. "I actually didn't sleep much last night at all."

We murmured a little bit back and forth after that, but we were both so exhausted, and so at peace, despite our sexual frustration, that we both drifted off fairly quickly.

And then I woke up... in his bed. He was next to me, still cuddled up. I luxuriated in it – the feel of his silky sheets, the scent of him, and the warmth of his body against mine. I had fallen asleep with him dozens of times, but I had never woken up with him beside me.

And then I noticed the sound of water, and the fact the bed appeared to be rocking gently. I looked up and saw the night sky rather than Adrian's ceiling. The moon was up, and the stars were bright, though I didn't recognize any particular constellations. I hadn't woken up at all, I realized.

"Hello, sweetheart," Adrian murmured in my ear. He pulled me gently down so that I was lying face up on the bed. He leaned over me and smiled. "You were asleep and I missed you, so I brought you here with me."

I looked around. Our bed seemed to be on a boat, floating down a river. "What river is this?" I asked.

"All of them," he answered, and kissed me.

* * *

><p><em>AN:_

_Hi! I have a kind of long Author's Note today, so I hope you have a minute. _

_First, Thank you to anyone who has read this story so far. Some of you have actually read this whole crazy thing, and I am amazed and touched that you like it. When Adrian says, "I just think about things and the paintings appear," that's kind of how I feel about this story. I never thought that people would actually subscribe or leave comments. So, seriously, thank you very much. _

_Second, if you want to know why Eddie was weird on the phone, you can read my other story, Stay With Me. :) _

_Third, if you want to hear the song Adrian and Sydney were dancing to, it's Disparate Youth by Santigold._

_Fourth, if you want to smell what I think Adrian must smell like, go into a Tom Ford store and ask to smell Noir de Noir. Seriously. You'll pass out from the sexy. Then ask to smell Musk Pure, which I have decided is what Eddie smells like. I had some on my hand and a friend said, "oh, that's what comfort smells like." _

_Fifth, Is it weird that I almost don't want TGL to come out? In my head, Adrian and Sydney are happy and I don't want the official book to come out and reset them to where they were at the end of Bloodlines._


	24. I: The River that Runs Through Dreams

**Chapter 19: The River that Runs Through Dreams**

"Hello, sweetheart," Adrian murmured in my ear. He pulled me gently down so that I was laying face up on the bed, then leaned over me and smiled. "I woke up, and you were fast asleep, so I brought you here with me."

I looked around. Our bed seemed to be on a boat, floating down a river. The sky above us was brilliant with stars."What river is this?" I asked.

"All of them," he answered, and kissed me.

The thing about kissing Adrian was that it always seemed to make time stand still for us, while the rest of the world began to move in fast-forward. All I knew for a while was Adrian: his touch, his scent, his taste.

When I managed to pull away, I sat up to look around better. Adrian propped himself up on one elbow and watched me as I scooted over closer to the edge of the bed. I realized that our bed wasn't _on_ a boat; our bed _was_ a boat. I leaned over, and put one of my hands in the cool water, watching the wake that it created. Then I looked up and saw that our bed-boat was passing what appeared to be the Grand Basilica of Vatican City.

"Are we in Rome?" I asked Adrian, turning back to him. "Is this the Tiber River?"

"At the moment," he said. "Later on it'll be the Danube, and then maybe the Thames, and maybe the Amazon – who knows? Wherever. It'll be whatever we want it to be. It's the river that runs through our dreams."

I scooted over closer to him. I couldn't remember a time that he had ever sounded so poetic. I wondered briefly why I just never got sick of kissing him, and then for a few minutes, I didn't wonder anything at all.

A little while later, I opened my eyes and noticed that our bed-boat was floating through a narrow Venetian canal. I looked straight up as we drifted under a famous bridge. "Hey," I said. "That's the Bridge of Sighs."

"I'll give _you_ 'sighs,'" Adrian said, from somewhere in the vicinity of my neck.

"What do you m- ohhhhhhhhh," I said.

A few more minutes passed. Then I sat up suddenly. "Hey!" I said. "Now we're on the Seine!"

"How can you tell?" Adrian asked, and then continued doing what he had been doing.

"It's ohhhhhhhhhhhh..." I said. "It's the Eiffel Tower. See?"

Adrian looked at it, unimpressed. "I'll give _you_ an Eiffel Tower," he growled in my ear.

I slapped him on the arm lightly. "I'm not sure I want an Eiffel Tower," I said. "For one thing, where would I put it?"

"I have some ideas," Adrian said, his voice low and musical.

I rolled my eyes. "It would be terribly impractical. It wouldn't fit in my room at Amberwood, for one thing..."

"Well, the one I have for you, it gets a little smaller when you're not playing with it..."

I went to slap him again, but he caught my hand and kissed it. Then he held up a little Eiffel Tower souvenir, which he had apparently plucked from the sky. "See?" he said. "It folds up." He demonstrated the little gadget's ability to lie down flat.

"Cute," I said.

"But if you get bored with that," he said, grinning, "you can play with my penis."

I let out an exasperated sound and tackled him. "You are..." I said.

He raised an eyebrow. "Charming? Handsome? Winning? Clever?"

"Not what I was going for," I said, the corners of my mouth twitching with the smile I was trying to suppress.

"Well, then what am I? Besides 'yours'? Because I am _yours_, you know." He gave me a sweet smile.

"See, you say things like _that_..." I said, waving my hands in aggravation. He leaned closer to me, and I leaned closer to him, and then we lost a little more time.

When I looked up a while later, I noticed that we were passing the famous Buda castle in Budapest. I pointed out the scenery to Adrian, who smiled and began humming 'The Blue Danube.'

"Is it ok for us to be here?" I asked him. "I thought we weren't going to go on any more dream visits until we had sorted out what was going on with them."

Adrian stroked my face with his fingers. "Well, three important points on that. Point one, Sonya doesn't think it's too big a deal as long as we don't make major changes that might be detectable in the real world. She didn't detect any damage being done to our bodies or spirits as a result of your... unique abilities. Point two, I don't care because I want to be with you right now. And point three..." He kissed me.

I pulled away a little. "Fair enough," I said, smiling. "When did you talk to Sonya?"

"A few days after she visited you," he said, a shadow crossing his face. "I sort of wanted to call and tell you what she'd said but... you know."

"Oh," I said, as a wave of regret washed through me. Why had I wasted three weeks? "What did Sonya say?"

"She said that I shouldn't give up on you." He smiled. "She said you were still nuts about me."

"Is that all?" I was a little embarrassed. Sonya had seen right through me. "I mean, what did she say about all the dream stuff?"

"She said that she thought that you were using her spirit-powers to _actually_ travel to the place you were visiting somehow, rather than to simply visit a _memory_ of it. She thinks it's a very interesting power, and a good compliment to spirit, especially if you can heal spirit users. She tried to tell me some story of a Dhampir and Moroi couple in Siberia but I kind of tuned out. You had dumped me and I didn't want to even _think_ about happy couples."

"She told me the same story," I said. "Apparently, they heal each other, or something. He takes her spirit-darkness, and then she heals him."

"It sounds... I don't know, co-dependent to me," Adrian said. "I don't want to need you, _that_ way, you know?"

"But you don't _need_ me," I said. "I mean, you can handle it yourself. But if I can make it easier for you, why shouldn't I?"

"Because I want to know that you're with me for the right reasons," he said. He lay on his back, his arms under his head.

"I already told you that I am," I said. "You'll have to trust me on that."

"I guess... yeah," Adrian said. "It does take trust. It's weird, isn't it?" He stared up at the night sky. We were passing through what looked like Vienna now. "I knew it took trust to offer someone help – you have to trust that they really need it, and that they'll appreciate it. But it also takes a lot of trust to let someone help you, or even do something kind for you."

I thought about that. "I guess it does," I said. "I never realized that. But yeah, it does." We looked at each other and reached for each other's hands.

Adrian said, after a moment, "Anyway, this has gotten into serious conversation territory, hasn't it?"

"I guess so," I said.

"Tonight is supposed to be about cuddling, and kissing, and a little bit of groping" – he reached over and squeezed my butt, and I laughed – "and a lot of romance, with as little serious conversation as possible." He looked up and smiled. "Hey, look at that," he said, gesturing with his head.

I rolled over onto my back and saw that we were passing by the Statue of Liberty. "We're in New York now?" I asked.

"Why not?" Adrian asked. "It's our dream."

"But it's not even the same continent..."

"So you have no trouble with the Tiber emptying into the Seine, but object to the Danube turning into the Hudson?"

"We're not in the Hudson River. We're in New York Harbor. Actually, an interesting fact is that Liberty Island, which technically is the possession of New York State, is on the New Jersey side of New York Harbor."

"Oh, really?" Adrian said. "Go on."

I grinned, not because of what I was about to say, but because of the response I expected from Adrian. "In fact, in 1987, the governor of New Jersey sued on behalf of his state. He wanted New Jersey to be able to claim ownership of the island."

"That's very interesting," Adrian said calmly.

I waited. No response? "And while the suit was thrown out of court," I continued, "New Jersey still has a small, and fairly pointless claim to the island: Jersey City includes it in one of its voting districts. It's absurd, because no one actually lives on the island, of course, so no one seems to care that both cities claim the area."

"Fascinating," Adrian said. He just lay on his back, not moving.

I sighed loudly. "Aren't you going to –"

And with a mock growl, he tackled me, suddenly ferocious in his kisses. I giggled, and then gasped, then mostly contented myself with silence for a long while.

When I thought to look around again, we were passing Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament. Not far away, the huge London Eye dominated the skyline.

"London," Adrian said, nodding at the scenery. "It seemed like a logical successor to New York."

"Why not?" I said. "It makes as much sense as anything else." Up ahead, we could see the Tower Bridge, with its elaborate decorations.

"Here, sit up," Adrian said, and began humming 'London Bridge is Falling Down.' I complied, and he scooted behind me so that his legs circled me. "I am going to give you the best back-rub you've had in your entire life, thereby proving that I am the best boyfriend on earth." He put his hands on my shoulders and began suiting his action to his words. He had strong hands.

"I already think that about you," I said, exhaling. "And I don't know if I've ever really had a back-rub before."

"Then my task is easier," Adrian said. "Though I want this back-rub to stand the test of time." He kissed the nape of my neck, then murmured in my ear, "Lean your head forward a little. I want to get your neck."

"I already know that," I said, smiling, but did as he asked. He began using his thumbs to apply pressure along my spine.

We looked at the scenery and talked a little about nothing much as he massaged first my neck, then my shoulders, then my back. The Thames merged with the Golden Horn of Istanbul, and we floated along with the graceful minarets of the Blue Mosque in the distance.

"I'm sorry my back is so tight," I said, and exhaled as his fingers found a knot.

"You've been under a lot of stress," he said, and kissed the back of my neck.

"So have you," I said.

"Well, maybe sometime soon you can give _me_ a back-rub. I warn you, it's a challenging task. You'll probably get so overwhelmed by my general sexiness that you'll pass out half-way."

"Probably," I said. "But I could try my best."

"You always do," he said. "It's one of the things I like best about you."

The harbor of Istanbul led to the Vltava River and the famous Charles Bridge in Prague. After that our little bed floated past the majestic red cliffs of Santorini before it sailed under the Golden Gate bridge in San Francisco. When Adrian finished massaging my back, I lay down on my stomach and watched the world float by sideways, my head nestled in my arms, as he moved onto my legs and feet.

His hands were strong and warm, and whenever I moved or reacted the slightest bit, he adjusted his touch so as not to hurt me. I felt completely safe and calm, but at the same time, every cell in my body seemed to be turning on like a series of tiny Christmas tree lights.

I sighed happily when Adrian crawled up to lie beside me and began stroking my hair. I had no idea where our bed-boat was now, and didn't care. "Well, with nothing to compare it to," I said, "I can confidently say that that was the best back-rub I've ever had or ever will have."

"Until I give you another one sometime," Adrian said, low in my ear, and kissed my cheek. I rolled over onto my back to look at him, and he kissed me again, on the lips this time, then lingered in front of me, his face only inches from mine. He took in a breath to speak, then let it out, then tried again. "I know we said 'no sex until after we've talked,'" he said finally, "and I know we're worried about Jill. And I don't want to push you, as I hope you know... right, Sydney?" I nodded. "But we've _talked_ a bit already, haven't we? I mean, we kept saying we wouldn't talk about anything serious and then we kept talking about serious things anyway."

"That's true," I said.

"And well, to protect Jill, the main thing is for _me_ to stay relatively calm, right? But it'd be ok if _you_ got a little... excited, wouldn't it?" He kissed me then, slowly, but with an intensity that left me breathless.

"I guess," I whispered when he stopped.

"So maybe you'll let me do something nice for you," he said. He had a slight, enigmatic smile on his face, and his eyes were wider than usual. "It'd be something that we'll both enjoy, but it shouldn't wake Jill up from her sleep, especially all the way from here, from a dream." He licked my cheek, very lightly, then licked my lips. I looked him in the eye, not sure what he was saying. "I have a very long tongue, you know," he whispered with a wider smile, and I felt my pulse rate spike as I suddenly understood what he was offering. He met my gaze. "You don't want me to?" he whispered, raising his eyebrows.

"I've just... I mean, no one's even _seen_ me there since I was a baby," I whispered, feeling stupid. "You've touched me, but never really _looked_..." I trailed off.

"It's ok," he said. He took my hands in his and I realized I had been twisting them together nervously. "Really, Sydney, we don't have to do anything. I... just wanted to do something for you. You've done so much for me, and well..." He grinned. "I was curious what you'd be like. What you'd do, what you'd say. I guess I'll find out some other time." He leaned close and whispered in my ear, "But if you ever want anything from me, just give me a sign. I'm at your disposal." Then he leaned back and smiled, and resumed stroking my hair.

At those words, I felt the blood run hot through my veins, even hotter than it had been just minutes ago. I wanted him so badly. Just the touch of his fingers through my hair was driving me crazy. I realized that this was one of those times when it was best not to think too much, best not to let fear ruin the day. There was nothing to be nervous about. This was Adrian.

And he wanted a sign from me. Fine. I pulled off my tank top and slipped off the boxer shorts and my underwear.

Adrian looked at me without comment, then ran a finger down my side, along my ribs, to my hips, and down one leg. He seemed to drink in the sight of me, then sighed. "You know the view down to the river in Porto," he said, "where the flowers grow wild, and the sun shines on the water? And how we said that it was the most beautiful thing either of us had ever seen?" I nodded. He paused, looking me up and down again, and then met my eye. "You're more beautiful than that," he said. "You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen. The most beautiful _anything_ I've ever seen."

"You really think I'm beautiful?" I asked. My whole life, no one had seemed to find my appearance even acceptable, and Adrian not only accepted me, but admired me.

"I really do," he said. "You know me. I pretty much always tell the truth, even if it gets me into trouble." I remembered him ruining his chances for a job by telling the interviewer that he was lazy and would make a terrible employee, and I smiled. "So if I say you're beautiful, it's because you are. End of story."

"I think you're amazing too," I said. "You're like... a work of art."

He smiled at the compliment, then kissed me softly. When he pulled away, he looked at me, a question on his face. I took a steadying breath, and then nodded. He kissed my lips for a long while, and I stroked his back. Then he kissed my neck, then my collarbone, then made his way down to my breasts, spending a while teasing each one with his tongue. I clutched at his back and gasped. Then he began kissing me in a line straight down the middle of my body, past my belly button.

When his mouth found what it had been looking for, I actually moaned aloud. It was an amazing sensation, simultaneously so tender and so erotic. I rested my hands in his hair and looked down at him. From time to time, he looked up at me, and I could see the smile in his eyes. He seemed to just sense where to touch me and with what pressure. I had been so on fire for him, for so long, and the sensations were all so overwhelming, that soon, an intense shudder went through me, starting at the spot where Adrian was touching me but somehow going all the way through my body. I clutched at his shoulders spasmodically, calling out wordless sounds. Then I lay back on the pillow, breathing hard, heart racing, a huge smile on my face. Adrian kissed his way up my body again, then cuddled up to me and pulled the sheets over both of us.

"Did you like that?" he murmured in my ear.

"Yes," I said. "Wow. Yeah. I did." It seemed like a vast understatement, but there were times that words seemed useless, and this was one of them. I just held him tightly.

"Good," he said, with a huge smile. "I did too." Then he lay down with his cheek on my chest, and I stroked his hair. I realized that every time I touched his silky hair for a while, I'd be remembering this night.

For a few minutes, neither of us spoke, as the endorphins floated through me. I realized without surprise that we were floating along by the familiar scenery of Porto, on the Douro River. It made sense for us to be here now. After a few moments, I said, very quietly, "I want to do something for you, too."

"Well, the idea is appreciated, my golden-eyed girl," Adrian said, looking up at me. "But the point was to protect Jill by keeping my thoughts comparatively calm, right?"

"I just feel like I... owe you something."

"You don't owe me anything. If nothing else, you practically saved my life tonight. And even if you hadn't, I still would have wanted this. Consider it a gift, just a gift, because I adore you, adore kissing you and being with you, and adore making you happy. And it was kind of a selfish gift on my part because it meant I got to do something I really wanted to do anyway. I mean, sex with Sydney Sage has been at the top of my wish list for months now." He grinned.

"You considered that sex?" I asked, surprised.

"Well, I'm not a politician," Adrian said, scooting up a little so that he shared the pillow with me. "I don't know the technical definition of the term. But I'll tell you that it felt like sex to me. But why does it matter? You enjoyed it. I enjoyed it. We were together. What did it feel like to you?"

I thought about it. "Sex," I said, and the word came out in a whisper.

Adrian grinned. "Then I did it right, huh? I told you I was kind of a big deal."

I lay close to him. "You're amazing," I said.

"You haven't seen anything yet," he said, low in my ear. "You inspire me. I sit there sometimes, thinking of all the tricks I can use with you to make you shake from head to toe." He kissed my neck. "You'll see, my fierce girl. I would even read a _book _to learn tricks if it meant making you scream."

"A book, huh?" I said, still smiling. My cheeks were starting to hurt from it. "Now that's romantic."

"It is, actually," he said, and squeezed me.

I felt overwhelmed. "I just..." I said. "I just..."

_Love __boats__?_ suggested the Traitor, sarcastically.

"I just missed you so much," I finished, and kissed him. And then without quite meaning to, I brushed away the last bit of spirit-darkness I could still feel in him. While I was at it, I healed the cuts on his feet before I realized that I had never actually healed a physical problem for him before, even in a dream.

Adrian pulled away from me, startled. He scrambled to a sitting position so that he could look at his feet, then looked up at me, wide-eyed. "What was _that_, Sage?"

"Sorry," I said. "I don't even know what that was. It just seemed natural. Your feet were damaged. I... I can't explain it. It just felt like straightening up."

"You don't _have_ to heal me," he said. "I told you, I don't want to be the guy who _needs_ you. I'm ok with wanting you, and being crazy about you, and missing you when you're gone. But I don't want to need you. That doesn't feel right."

"I guess not," I said. "But maybe you can accept it as a gift. Because I... care about you."

"A gift, huh?" he said, then took a deep breath. "Point taken, fierce girl." He lay down next to me again. "Then, thank you, sweetheart. I really had torn holy hell out of my feet, hadn't I?"

"Pretty much," I said.

"You're not weirded out by that?" he asked. "Me throwing plates at the wall and knocking shit over and looming around saying scary things to you?"

"No," I said.

He shook his head. "You're awesome," he said.

"You are too," I said.

"I know that," he said, with a grin. "That's why we're such a good couple. We're both so fucking awesome."

"Well, then will you let me do something for you?" I asked. His eyebrows went up. "Not like that," I said. "I just had an idea."

"Ok," Adrian said, eying me with curiosity.

I sat up and gestured for him to do the same, and then as we sat facing each other, I put my hands on the sides of his face. "Try to put up your mental shields again," I said. "I'll try to help you."

Adrian smiled. "That, I will happily accept your help with." He closed his eyes in concentration, and so did I. Then I tried to 'feel' inside his mind, for the spot where something was spilling out into Jill. As I felt Adrian's attention go to the spot, I realized I could sort of feel it too. It was like feeling a spot where a little bit of air was leaking out of a balloon. I reached into him, and applied a mental patch to the spot as best I could.

Adrian opened his eyes after a moment. "Did you feel anything?" he asked. "Do you think it worked?"

"I think it might have," I said. "We'll see what Jill says."

Adrian grinned. "If this works, I will be seriously indebted to you, Sage. And I know all sorts of ways to make it up to you."

"Are you going to wash my car?" I asked.

He laughed. "With these hands?" he said, and held them up. "A crime!"

"I thought so," I said.

"But yeah," Adrian said, "I'll call Jill tomorrow and say, 'hey, how am I?' It'll be funny."

"I hope it works," I said.

"Me too," Adrian said, significantly, and I blushed.

We floated along happily for a while. Then Adrian pointed out a covered dock ahead of us, on one side of the river. We steered with emphatic gestures, and our little bed-boat floated into the dock. Adrian tossed an anchor overboard, and I saw that the covered dock area looked just like his room. Adrian grinned at my surprise and said, "Home sweet home!"

"I guess it is time that we got a little REM-sleep," I said.

"And next thing we know, it'll be morning," Adrian said, as he cuddled up to me, my back to his front, his arm around my waist. "You promise not to evaporate overnight or something?"

"I promise," I said, with a smile.

The bed continued to rock gently in the water, and I almost started to doze off, before I heard that laugh of Adrian's, and felt his chest vibrate a little.

"What?" I said.

"Just... what a difference a day makes. Last night, I was rocking myself on the floor, trying not to lose touch with reality. Now I'm rocking in a boat, in a dream, with you." He kissed my neck quickly. "And it's good." He laughed again.

"Hmm," I said. "I guess one day changed a few things for me too. Last night, I was in medical shock, and emotional shock. Everything hurt physically, and emotionally I was short-circuited. I actually slept with your shirt on, for comfort. And now... Well, you know." I squeezed his arm affectionately.

Adrian squeezed me back. "So last night, you slept with my shirt. And tonight you sleep with me."

"So to speak," I said, and Adrian laughed again.

"Face it, Sage," he said. "We're both better off with each other than we are apart."

"Then it's a good thing we're together," I said.

"Mmmm," he agreed, and cuddled closer.

"For once, I don't have to wish we weren't falling asleep," I said.

"I was just thinking that," he said.

We said goodnight, and soon we fell asleep, cuddled in a dream of the bed in which we really slept.

* * *

><p>I woke up, happy. I could feel the warmth and pressure of Adrian's arms around me. I could even faintly smell his cologne. I sternly told myself not to wake up the rest of the way, that this was the best and most realistic dream I had had in a long time. I didn't want to lose this feeling, didn't want the scene to shift to Amberwood, my narrow bed, my lonely life. But I couldn't help it. I was waking up.<p>

I opened my eyes and let out a surprised sigh of relief. This was really _real_. I was lying curled up on my side, and Adrian was pressed close against me, one arm tight around my waist, one leg draped over both of mine. It was that blue-gray time of early morning, and through the open window, I could hear birds singing. It had all happened, I realized. I had gone to his house. I had healed him, and he had healed me. We had found each other again and then he had... I remembered what he had done, in the dream, just a few hours ago, and color rose to my cheeks. I realized I was naked, which just made me blush even more.

I wanted to stay in bed and go back to sleep, but there was a reason I had woken up, and there was no point denying nature's call. I extricated myself from Adrian's arms as carefully as I could, not wanting to wake him up too. He made a sad noise in his sleep, and I smiled and stuck my pillow in his arms. In his sleep, he squeezed the pillow and fell silent again, a smile on his face. I grabbed a bathrobe from a hook on the back of his bedroom door – it turned out to be cashmere, of course – and threw it on.

Walking through his hallway and into the bathroom, I thought more about the dream I'd shared with Adrian last night, and what had happened between us. I felt a sly grin come to my face thinking about it. I thought a little more about the details, remembering each touch, and the look on his face afterward.

Before I went back to the bedroom, I looked at myself in the mirror. "You sort of had sex," I whispered to my reflection. My reflection smiled back. "You totally sort of had dream sex," I whispered. "With Adrian." I couldn't even make eye-contact with my reflection without breaking into giggles. It was momentous, and confusing, and just delightful. Part of me wanted to keep the information to myself forever, a secret to make me float over everyone else. Part of me wanted to stop strangers on the street and say that my vampire lover had a really talented tongue.

_Totally do that_, said my old friend the Traitor, approvingly. _It'll be great._

I giggled again and went back across the hall.

When I got back to our bed, Adrian was still sleeping. I had never seen him while he was sleeping before this morning, and the sight of it entranced me. I gingerly got into bed with him, not wanting to wake him up. And before I snuggled back down with him, I just sat and watched him for a while.

Most people had no idea what he was capable of, I realized. He was so much kinder, so much tougher, and so much more talented and smart than anyone knew. Sometimes even he wasn't aware of it.

Last night I had allowed that intimacy because I had realized that this was a lot more than just a temporary fascination, for both of us. Our physical attraction was nothing compared to how much we just honestly loved being with each other. I kept him accountable. And he kept me living, kept me fighting.

I shrugged out of the bathrobe, then snuck back into his arms, swapping the pillow for my own body. This woke him up slightly. He opened an eye and gave me a huge smile. "You're here," he murmured, as I settled down into his embrace.

"I'm here," I said.

He squeezed me super tight, draping one leg over my body, then relaxed again. He was asleep again in moments. I lay awake for a little while, though, feeling full of affection. It was that feeling again I'd had the night we went to Porto, of being a balloon of emotion. It was like a helium balloon this time, and I floated along with it into sleep.

* * *

><p>AN:

_The Blue Danube (the song Adrian hums when they float by Budapest) is that song that Bugs Bunny always sings when he does the backstroke. You can youtube it if you want. You will recognize it, I guarantee. _

_So, I technically took a break from the story, but it was really just a break from this part of the story, chapters 19-21, which would not frickin' let me write them! During my "break," I rewrote Chapter 5 (the Venice chapter) quite a bit, fixing a lot of things – typos, transitions, awkward bits. It's a little longer now, and while it's not different exactly, I think it's better. _

_More significantly, I also paced out/drafted the entire rest of the story, which, I am terrified to report, is looking to be about 45 chapters total. I know, right? What the heck? But the second half of the story is starting soon and the second half is going to be a bit different – more action-y – than the first. I think you'll enjoy it though. I hope you will, anyway. I plan to answer at least some of the questions about Sydney's powers and stuff._

_I am leaving for the summer pretty soon, goin' travelin' as I usually do during the summer. And I'll be updating from the road, especially once I settle down in one place or another as I usually do. In fact, I'm planning to have S&A visit some of the same places I do. I can't tell you where I'm going as I guess that'd be a spoiler. But I'll tell you if I am where S&A are :) _

_I still really want to finish this thing before TGL comes out. We'll see. _

_Chapter 20 is almost done, but I like to let things lie a little bit before I post them, because I catch more of the typos and stuff that way. But I'll definitely post it by the end of next week._


	25. I: More Delightful Than Wine

**updated: 10 pm EST. Sorry, I posted a slightly older draft before! There were some typos and stuff, and I changed it a lot after the part where Sydney wakes up (after the line).  
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**Chapter 20: More Delightful Than Wine**

I woke up, startled by the sound of my phone ringing. I leaned over to pick my phone up off my desk, then realized that I wasn't in my dorm, and that my phone was on the floor in the corner of Adrian's room... and that _I_ was in Adrian's bed. I leaped up, almost tripping over the sheets, to grab the phone.

"This is Sydney," I said, quietly so as not to wake Adrian up, then I noticed that he wasn't in bed. Then I saw the clock, and was amazed to see that it was 10:30. I hadn't woken up so late in several years.

"I didn't wake you, did I?" Jill asked on the other end of the line.

"It's ok," I said, looking around on the floor for my clothes. Faintly, from the hall, I could hear the sound of water running and someone singing. "I should be up anyway. Are you feeling any better today?"

"Much," she said. "Is Adrian ok?"

"He's fine," I said. "But wait, can't _you_ feel how he's feeling?"

"No," she said, and she sounded kind of worried. "I felt his feelings pretty strongly all last night. He was really happy. But I don't know, when I woke up this morning, it was like..." She paused to choose the words. "There's such a strong wall up now that I was a little worried that he might be... I don't know, dead or something."

"He's alive," I said. "He's singing in the shower." I checked under the pillow and found the clothing I had been wearing when I'd gone to sleep last night. That was getting to be a normal thing for me.

"Oh," Jill said. "Well, I'm glad he's ok." She paused. "Um, so I also called because, um, I wanted to say sorry for being so mean to you yesterday."

"It was probably deserved," I said, putting the clothes back on.

"Not really," she said. "Um. So, I guess you and Adrian got back together?"

"Yes," I said, as I slipped the cashmere bathrobe on over my other clothes. There was no point in denying the truth to Jill, especially since, according to Eddie, Jill had experienced a great deal of what had happened between Adrian and me last night. I just hoped that she hadn't been a third passenger on our little boat ride.

"I'm glad you guys worked it out," she said, but she didn't sound too happy.

"Ok, Jill," I said. "What's going on?" As I waited for her reply, I went out into the hallway, pausing to listen to Adrian singing. I was pretty sure it was the song we'd been dancing to last night, but since _key_ wasn't exactly his department, I couldn't be certain. Still, for some reason, I kind of liked his off-key singing. It was cute.

"It's hard to explain," Jill said after a long pause. "Um. Do you know anything about that thing that happened in Spokane a few years ago?"

"You're talking about the events that followed when some students from St. Vlad's went to Spokane in an ill-fated attempt to kill Strigoi." I listened with amusement as Adrian switched to a song that sounded suspiciously like "Natural Woman" by Aretha Franklin. I stifled a laugh as I started walking down the hall again.

"Yes," Jill said. "I know Rose and Eddie went, and these other kids, Mia and Christian, I don't know if you know them. And I know that their friend Mason got killed, but I never met him so I don't know much about that. Anyway, I just want to know what happened to Eddie there."

"What happened to him?" I repeated, as I walked into Adrian's kitchen, coffee on my mind. "What do you mean? Didn't he fight Strigoi and then return?"

"Yeah, but I mean, I want to know what, like _happened_. Why was it so traumatic for him. I mean, I know his friend got killed but I don't think that's all that happened, because he freaked out about the smallest thing, and it was really weird, and he said it had something to do with Spokane and he didn't explain, and I thought that if I could just find out what happened it would help me understand."

"Why don't you just ask him?" By then, I had found the coffee machine and the filters, as well as the coffee itself. I opened Adrian's fridge, locating the milk and giving it an experimental sniff. It was actually fine, which I considered a variety of miracle.

"Omigosh, Sydney, I couldn't," Jill said. "Something really bad happened. He doesn't want to talk to me about it. I just thought maybe there's some alchemist report somewhere that you could access. Don't you guys know everything?"

"Well, kind of, yes," I said. "But it'd be easier just to ask him, wouldn't it?"

"I told you," she said, "I can't." She sounded completely miserable.

I paused for a moment, leaning against a cabinet. I had never thought out about Eddie's experience in Spokane. I had known that he had lost a friend in the fight, but never thought about what the Strigoi may have done to Eddie while they had him captured. I knew what other Strigoi had done to me and Adrian, however, and I could kind of guess at what Eddie had gone through.

"You know," I said, "when I talked to him on the phone last night, he reiterated how much he cares about you. I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you asked him something like that." I had measured the coffee and water as I spoke, and then I hit the button to begin the brew.

Jill drew in her breath sharply. "You talked to him last night? When? Before or after the, um... thunderstorm?"

Something about the nervousness in her voice made me wonder. I wanted to get to the bottom of this. "After," I said. "Are you ok? I mean, considering what happened between you two."

She gasped. "Eddie told you about that?"

_Ah-ha, _I thought._ I hit a nerve._ "I consider both of you a friend," I said. "I just want this to turn out ok. So, are you ok?"

"While it was happening, I mean, I was happy," she said.

"Of course," I said, still not sure what had happened exactly.

"It was just after, you know? When he said it was all just to calm me down from the spirit-darkness."

"He said that?"

"What did he tell you?" she asked.

"Not a lot. He just talked mostly about the effect the spirit-darkness had on you."

"But it's like I told him," she said. "That's not the only reason I kissed him!"

I made sure not to react. "I didn't think it was," I said.

"Does he still think that?"

"He didn't really specify," I said. "But I could see him thinking something like that."

"I just... I really care about him, you know? He's such a good person. He's so different from most of the guys I've met in my life. He's like the opposite of... Lee." The name came out in a half whisper.

"Yes," I said. "He is." Lee wanted to be with Jill forever, even if it meant destroying both their souls. Eddie didn't want to be with Jill at all because he... loved her too much... or something. I couldn't quite follow his logic, because it didn't seem particularly logical to me. But at least I knew that Eddie valued Jill's safety and happiness. In fact, he valued it over his own, and I wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"I'm sorry to dump this on you," she said. "He just freaked out when I kissed him at the end – I mean, he'd been fine, and then I went to kiss him one more time and he freaked out. He said it had to do with Spokane and I didn't understand."

"How did you leave things between you two?" I asked.

"Terrible," she said. "He won't even really talk to me."

"Look," I said, "I'll talk to him and get to the bottom of it. I want you two to work this out."

"Oh, please don't talk to Eddie about it, Sydney. It's ok. He doesn't like me like that. I'm like, three years younger than him. He's this amazing bad-ass guardian. Why would he be interested in someone like me?"

I remembered Eddie wondering why someone like Jill would ever like a "controversial guardian" like him, and almost wanted to tear my hair out. But his feelings for her were a secret, and it wasn't my secret to divulge. So all I said was, "Why _wouldn't_ he be interested in you? I don't know how any of this stuff works. But I wouldn't give up hope if I were you."

"Because you and Adrian worked out?"

"Maybe," I said. "I mean, it shows anything is possible, right?" I paused. "How much of that did you 'see'? I mean, our... reconciliation."

"Wellllllll... parts of it. But then Eddie and I were kissing and I was sort of paying attention to that instead. And he and I didn't really stop until you healed Adrian or whatever."

Two responses fought in my head. "I didn't heal Adrian!" and "Wow, you two kissed for a really long time, then, huh?" But I didn't say either of them. I just said, "Oh."

"And then I sort of passed out for a while. I didn't have any weird dreams or anything. And then, like I told you, when I woke up, the bond was... gone. It's weird. In a lot of ways, I hate the bond, but then when it wasn't there this morning, I felt sort of lonely."

"Adrian just tried a new technique that Sonya taught him," I lied smoothly. "I don't think it'll be permanent."

"Well," Jill said, "if it is, I guess that'd be a good thing. The best thing for both of us, really. Anyway, I should let you get back to Adrian. I'm sorry I bothered you. But, um, are you going to be back soon?

"You didn't bother me," I said, "and I think I'll be home by the afternoon. I can call you when I'm leaving."

"That'd be great," she said. "Bye for now."

"I'll see you soon," I said, and we hung up.

After I put my phone down, I got out some mugs and began pouring out the coffee. After a moment, I felt eyes on me and I looked up. Adrian was standing in the doorway to the kitchen. He was wearing nothing but a black bath towel. This made the third time I had seen him in a towel. I was already looking forward to the fourth and fifth times.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," I said.

"You made _coffee_," he said, as if I had discovered the square root of negative one. He came up to me and put his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder. His hair was still wet and a trickle of water ran down the side of his neck onto me. I could smell his soap and shampoo, and wondered why such an apparently innocent smell should be so sexy coming from him. "I smelled it even in the shower."

"I did make coffee," I said, resting my arms on his. "And you're dripping on me."

He kissed me on the cheek. "Am I? Is it bothering you?" He rubbed his wet head against my cheek.

"It's unbearable," I said, with a grin.

"Well, let me dry you off," he said, and dabbed a towel against my neck and cheek. A towel...?

I looked behind me and saw that he was using his towel to dry me off, which meant that I had a completely unobstructed view of his body. "Oh," I said. I let my eyes travel over him, slowly. Yep. Gorgeous.

_Tell him what Jill said, _the Traitor suggested. _About the bond being patched over for now. Then you two can go finish what you started last night. _

_I'm scared, _I told her. It was weird. Last night I had been so ready. This morning I was terrified.

_Fair enough,_ the Traitor said, to my surprise.

Adrian finished drying me off then put his towel back on as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, and then wrapped me up in a hug. We stood in that embrace for a little while longer, swaying a little. Then Adrian kissed me loudly on the cheek and stepped away from me.

"I have to have some of that coffee," he said. "And I am going to make you an omelet."

"Will it be the best omelet I've ever had?" I asked, smiling.

"You know it," Adrian said. "Adrian Ivashkov doesn't do things by halves."

"Do I have time to take a quick shower first?" I asked.

"Of course," he said. "Do you need someone to scrub your back? Or your front, maybe?"

"I think I'm ok," I said, keeping a straight face with some effort, then kissed him lightly. "I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Don't be too long," he said, pulling me into another kiss before releasing me with a grin.

I went down the hall to Adrian's bathroom and took a quick shower. When I was done, I dried off with one of his fluffy black towels, then went to his room to find my own clothes. I put them on, and then came out into the kitchen to find Adrian dressed now and cooking.

"You're just in time, Sage," he said. "Have a seat." I did as instructed, and Adrian placed something on the table in front of me. It was a bowl of scrambled eggs with cheese.

"I thought you said you were making an omelet," I said, and looked at him. I could feel the smile at the corner of my eyes.

"This _is_ an omelet," Adrian said, in a mock offended tone. "It's a very creative one. Who wants a flat, boring omelet? I gave you an omelet with texture and charm. And cheese. Texture, charm, and cheese." He paused. "Served in a cereal bowl, since I don't appear to own any plates." He paused again. "You don't like ketchup on your eggs or anything weird like that, do you? Please tell me you don't."

"No," I said. "Who would put ketchup on eggs?" Suddenly an image came to my mind of a certain person pouring an entire bottle of ketchup over practically all food in sight. Adrian and I looked at each other, and then said in unison, "Rose!" We laughed.

We drank our coffee and ate together, talking about nothing in particular. I don't know what Adrian had put in the eggs, but they were, in fact, delicious, and I found myself finishing the plate of food with no difficulty for once.

"Look at us," Adrian said. "So normal. Eating eggs. Hey!" His face lit up. "I could make crepes! I have flour and eggs and sugar..."

"I'm already full," I said. "But thanks."

"It's ok," he said. "I've actually never made crepes and have to look up the recipe. But I could make them tomorrow morning for you..." He looked at me, and I shook my head 'no'.

"I can't stay over again," I said.

"Oh," he said. "School won't let you?"

"Well, they might," I said, "but it isn't smart for me to stay over again. People might notice. Further, Jill specifically asked me to come back."

"She called?" Adrian asked, his face lighting up. "Did she say anything about the bond?"

I swallowed heavily. "I should have told you before," I said. "She said that the bond feels so closed, she wasn't sure if you were alive or dead."

Adrian let out a whoop of happiness. "Sage! That's fantastic!" Then he cocked his head to the side and looked at me. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know," I said. "I just..."

_You were terrified all of a sudden, _the Traitor supplied._ Which isn't that weird. Just tell him._

"I was scared," I finished.

Adrian took both my hands in his. "There's no reason to be scared of me," he said. "And I don't want you to feel like you have to hide anything from me, especially not relevant things. So, next time, tell me, ok? Whatever it is, tell me. You can just say, 'Jill says the bond is closed, but don't expect me to jump into your bed right away, you incredibly handsome and wonderful guy, you.' Something like that."

I smiled despite myself. "Ok," I said.

"The last thing I want is for you to feel like... you have to. I don't want you to ever feel used or forced or pushed around. I think both of us have had enough of that in our lives." I looked up in surprise. I hadn't known that he would make that connection. "How about this?" he continued. "As I said before, I'm at your disposal. You give me a sign when and if you're ready, ok?" He leaned over and murmured in my ear, "And I will do everything in my power to make sure you have a very, _very_ good time, as soon as you're ready."

_Now's good_, suggested the Traitor. _How about now?_

"Thanks for understanding," I said. I took a deep breath. "Let me just take a minute to pull myself together."

"Sure thing," Adrian said. "I'll clean up in here, and you go watch TV or something."

"You really are running for boyfriend of the year, aren't you?" I said.

"What do you think of my chances?" he asked.

"You're a shoo-in," I said, and kissed him on the cheek. He bent to the dishes in the sink with a smile, and I picked up the broom and dustpan I had dropped in the corner the night before. I took them out with me to the living room, thinking now was as good a time as any to tackle the mess out there. Cleaning would help me think.

There were shards of broken plates everywhere, and I swept up the debris the best I could, dumping the broken pieces into a plastic bag. Then I began turning chairs and tables back over, and stacked the broken items near the door, so that one of us could take them out to the trash soon. I put the plastic bag of shards down near the door when I was done, and when I set it down, one piece fell out on the floor. Without thinking, I picked it up to put it back in the bag, and cut myself badly on the first finger of my right hand. I let out a soft cry of pain, then began looking around for my alchemist kit.

Adrian's voice startled me. "What's wrong?" he asked, appearing suddenly in the living room. "Did you hurt yourself?"

I wondered if I would ever get used to Moroi hearing, or the lightness of his feet. I held up my bleeding finger, a wry expression on my face. "It's just a stupid cut, but it's bleeding a lot for some reason," I said.

Adrian looked at my finger, then looked away. I saw him lick his lips. "How did it happen?" he asked, looking at the floor.

"I just wasn't careful," I said. "I was cleaning up those broken plates..."

"You should have let me do that," he interjected, with a little heat.

"I didn't mind doing it," I said. "You needed the help."

He took a deep breath. "Do you want me to get a Band-aid for you?" he asked, still not looking at me. "Or are you going to use some alchemist trick on it?"

"They're not tricks," I said. "They're technology."

"Ok," he said, backing up towards the hall that led to the bathroom. "Technology. Whatever. But let me go get a Band-aid, just in case."

"Wait," I said, and he stopped moving. I crossed the room to him.

"Sydney, sweetheart," he said, quietly. "It's bleeding a lot. You should bandage it. Or... I could heal it or something."

I tilted his face to me with my good hand, then held up my bleeding finger. "Or... you could taste my blood," I said. "Do you want to? Then we'll know for sure if the Strigoi were right – if my blood is really disgusting or what."

He looked at my finger and licked his lips again. "Are you sure, Sydney?" he whispered. "I don't think it'll be disgusting at all. I can smell it. I..." He trailed off, his eyes wide.

"I'm sure," I said. I swallowed hard. "I want you to do it."

"Why?" he whispered.

"It's hard to explain," I said. "It's just a question I need us to answer."

"You're sure?"

"I'm sure," I said again.

He nodded and took my injured hand in both of his. He gently licked the blood from my finger, like someone licking the dripping edge of an ice cream cone, and then closed his eyes, like someone savoring a piece of chocolate. Then he looked at me, a question in his eyes. He was still holding my hand, and he pulled it very gently towards his mouth again. His touch was light, and I could have pulled away. I didn't, though. I looked at him and smiled, then nodded. Reverently, he put my finger in his mouth and began to suck gently. I closed my eyes, unable to look. His tongue played gently around the cut, and he slipped one of his arms around my waist, pulling me closer. Within moments a warm blissful feeling began to run through me, and not just from the touch of his arm. Endorphins! I knew they were transmitted when a vampire bit, when the vampire's saliva made contact with the person's blood. I wouldn't have guessed that a wound like this could create the contact, but apparently it did.

I opened my eyes and saw Adrian looking at me intently. I had never felt like this, ever in my life, completely free and blissed out. Looking in his eyes now, I felt overcome, not drowning as in times past, but flying free and weightless in an emerald green sky...

And then it stopped.

Adrian took my finger out of his mouth, then kissed my knuckles and the back of my hand. "Oh, wow, Sydney. I never..." He trailed off, looking at me. "Are you ok?"

I swayed on my feet and then fell against him, giggling.

"Okay, beautiful," Adrian said, scooping me up in his arms. "You need to lie down. Come on." He began to walk down the hall towards his bedroom with me in his arms, humming a little, tunelessly. I tried to hold onto him, but felt completely limp. I giggled again, then started humming along with the non-song. I felt like I could float right through the ceiling. I had read about the high that Moroi bites could cause, and I had experienced the Strigoi bite first hand. But the books had been clinical, and in the moment with the Strigoi, fear, adrenaline, and revulsion had done a lot to counter the blissful feeling of the bite. Right now, I could relax, knowing that Adrian wouldn't hurt me.

Adrian gently put me down on the bed, pulling a blanket over me. "Rest here for a sec," he said, and disappeared from my field of vision.

All I could think of was a line from the Song of Solomon: "His mouth is sweetness itself; he is my lover, my friend." I repeated that line over and over to myself, delighted with its sounds. It was so true, so completely true. When Adrian reappeared a few moments later with a glass of orange juice, I said it out loud to him, and he looked surprised.

"Is that from that sexy Bible bit?" he asked, helping me sit up to drink the juice.

"Mmm-hmm," I confirmed, drinking the orange juice, then handed him back the half-full glass. He took a sip, then handed it back. I laughed. "You took a sip of my orange juice," I said, and then laughed again.

"What?" he asked, smiling. "Why is that funny?"

"I used to not let people drink from my glass," I said, laughing harder now. I could barely get the next sentence out: "Because it's not... sanitary." And then I began laughing so hard that I almost couldn't breathe. "And you drank from my glass. And..." I couldn't even finish.

Adrian just let me laugh, taking the glass from me and putting it on the bedside table. "You're cute when you laugh," he said.

"I'll try to do it more then," I said, and giggled.

"Good idea," he said, climbing into the bed with me.

I rolled over on my side so that I could look at him. "I'm happy," I said, making a broad hand gesture.

Adrian just smiled again and reached out to brush the hair from my eyes. "I am too," he said. "I feel like I could pick up a car or something right now." He studied my face. "I swear I didn't think I was taking too much from you," he said, almost to himself. "I took less from you than I would have taken from Dorothy. Maybe it was just that wide cut on your finger that made the difference. More surface area. Maybe you're just not used to it... I don't know. But I'm sorry if it was too much for you."

"It wasn't too much," I whispered. "Do it again." I held out my finger.

"I wish I could," he said, sighing."I really, really do. But I think you've had enough. I think I took a little more than I should have. I was just... well, hungry. Hungry in general, and hungry for you in specific. Plus" – he paused to kiss the back of my hand – "it was cool to be able to see the look on your face while I did it. You looked like you were flying."

"I _felt_ like I was flying," I said.

Adrian took my hand in both of his and then, to my surprise, he healed the cut.

I pouted. "You don't want any more? Didn't I taste good?" I asked.

"You tasted like honey," he said. "Like 40-year-old vintage port wine."

"That's impossible," I giggled. "I'm only 18."

"Then I guess I can't wait for you to turn 40 if you're this good at 18."

I giggled again. "Ok, when I turn 40, I'll come find you and let you taste me again," I said.

"I hope it'll be easy to find me," Adrian said. "I hope that all you'll have to do is roll over in bed."

"I can do that right now," I said, and rolled on top of him, pinning him to the bed. I grinned down at him. "'Kiss me with the kisses of thy mouth,'" I recited. "'For thy love is sweeter than wine.'"

"More from the Song of Solomon?" Adrian asked.

"Yes," I said, and I bent to kiss him. I felt free and unselfconscious, but also uncoordinated, and after a few moments, I sort of fell off of him and onto the sheets, laughing.

Adrian rolled with me, both literally and figuratively, and pulled me close. "You're the one who is sweeter than wine," he said. "I've never had blood like that. I've never felt like that drinking from someone."

"And it got me drunk," I said. "I got drunk. Like a glass of water gets drunk." I giggled at my joke, and Adrian looked at me for a second before bursting into laughter too.

"Wow," he said, and kissed me again. "Just wow."

I pulled him to me and we kissed some more. "Now that you know what I taste like," I murmured, "aren't you going to want to bite me more?"

"If you found out that my flesh tasted exactly like Belgian chocolate, would you bite a big hunk out of my arm?" Adrian asked.

I giggled. "Yes," I said, and took a big mock bite out of his arm.

"Oh no, you don't!" he said, and we both laughed as he tackled me. In a moment, he was straddling me, and he had me pinned to the bed. We were both breathing hard. "Sydney," he said. "For me, this doesn't change things at all. I feel the same as I did before. Maybe just a little closer to you, but otherwise the same. I adore every cell in your body. The smell of your hair, the feel of your skin, and yeah, the taste of your blood."

He bent down to kiss me, my lips and my neck, and I lay languid on the bed, completely free of worry or thought as we kissed and kissed and kissed. After a few minutes, I began to pull off my shirt, but Adrian stopped me.

"Sweetest," he said. "Not a good idea."

I pouted again. "Why not?"

"Because just a few hours ago you said you weren't ready, and because now your aura is scattered halfway around the room. I care too much about you to let you make decisions in this state."

"I can make decisions," I said. I felt sure of that. I was making excellent decisions right now. "I want to _do_ it."

"And I do too," he said. "If you still want to in an hour or two, great. I'll be extremely easy to convince, as soon as your aura is back together again."

I sighed. "Fine," I said, though all I wanted was to kiss more. A lot more. But I knew Adrian had to have some reason for this, even if I didn't quite understand right now. I trusted him. "So, what should we do now?"

"You should rest. And I... I'll tell you a story."

"Ooh," I said. "Tell me a story about you." I lay down in the crook of his arm.

"Ok," Adrian said. "Once, there was a wizard named Adrian Potter..."

"No," I said. "A true story. A story about _you_. You when you were little, maybe."

"Hmmm," he said. "Well." He thought for a moment, and then said, "Once upon a time, there was a little vampire boy named Adrian."

"Was he handsome?" I asked.

"Not really," Adrian said. "He was too little for that. He was just a little tiny, scrawny vampire boy, whose eyes were way too big for his face, and he was shorter than most of the boys. He was a little different from the other kids, too. He saw auras around people's heads, and people thought it was weird when he talked about that, and they thought he was spooky. And his parents made him go see special doctors who told him that he didn't see auras at all, and that he had to stop making things up."

"Oh," I said. "No one believed him?"

"No, no one," Adrian said. "So he learned not to tell people about it, or any of the strange thoughts that he had sometimes. Instead, he just drew pictures, in a special notebook with no lines. It was the only thing he really wanted for Christmas one year, and his great-aunt actually listened to him, and got it for him. His great-aunt was probably the only person in the world who listened to him. So, he loved her very much. And he loved his special sketch book. He kept it under his pillow at school, and drew lots of weird, weird pictures."

"What were they like?" I asked. My head was starting to clear slightly, but I still felt pretty high.

"They were pictures that only made sense to him," Adrian said. "They were pictures of the dark thoughts in his head, and the auras he saw, and the strange way he saw the world. And this little vampire boy didn't want to go to any more special doctors, so he didn't show these pictures to anyone. He knew what they would think of them."

"That's so sad," I said. "He must have been so lonely."

"He was," Adrian said, squeezing me. "When he got a little older, he got very tall all of a sudden, even taller than most of the other boys. And he realized he could do other special things besides see auras. He could make people like him, and he could make them do whatever he wanted them to do. So then he had lots of friends. But he could never tell if they _really_ liked him. And he never wanted to show people the pictures, or tell them about his weird thoughts, because he was afraid of what they'd say. So, he still felt lonely."

I reached up to kiss his cheek. "What happened after that?" I asked.

"This little vampire," Adrian continued, "who wasn't really little anymore, he decided not to think about how weird he was, and how alone he was. He decided to make the weirdness go away by drinking a lot of alcohol. He started drinking a lot when he was only 13 or 14."

"How did he get alcohol so young?"

"It wasn't hard for him," Adrian said. "People always did whatever this boy asked them to do, and his parents left him alone most of the time. He was away at school mostly, and when he was home, they were busy fighting with each other, or cheating on each other, or making up with each other. They were too busy with that kind of thing to notice what their son was doing. The one time that this boy won an award for a picture he had painted in art class, neither of his parents even so much as sent him a letter to say that they were proud of him."

I didn't say anything. I just wrapped my arms around him and held on tight.

"And then he started going to a lot of parties, and meeting a lot of girls. And these girls thought he was handsome, and didn't worry about much else. So this little vampire boy, who wasn't little anymore, learned that it was easiest and safest just to stay a little drunk, or very drunk, maybe, and to be always at a party, or to make everything _into_ a party. He hated to be by himself, because that's when the weird thoughts would begin. So he was always with tons of people, but he was always lonely. And nobody liked his pictures, so he stopped drawing them."

"That's awful," I whispered.

"And even though he drank a lot, he still was weird, and full of darkness sometimes. And his parents made him go see more special doctors, and those special doctors told him that he was going to go insane if he wasn't careful. And they gave him drugs that made his mind numb and his spirit blank. He tried the drugs for a while, but he hated feeling numb and blank. So he stopped."

"I can understand that," I said.

"And then this vampire boy, who wasn't really a boy anymore, but kind of a young man, he met a girl at a ski lodge. This girl was the first girl who had ever said 'no' to him, so it made him interested in her. He wanted to win this girl, no matter what. And the challenge grew more interesting to him than anything else. He never stopped to think if this girl was really the right girl for him. And when she asked him for money, he gave her as much as she wanted. And even when she didn't care that his great-aunt had died, and even when she was obsessed with her ex-boyfriend, he kept doing everything he could for her. And she kept asking for favors, and she kept giving him almost nothing in return, and he kept fighting for her, because it never occurred to him to stop. Because it was the kind of relationship he had always had with everyone. It was the best he thought he could hope for."

"And then?" I asked, my voice hushed.

"And then... He realized that the girl didn't love him," he said. "And then he was very sad and very angry for a long time. And he felt like a victim and he felt like a fool. But then... Then something amazing happened."

"What happened?"

"He made friends with another girl, a human girl. And then slowly, he began to realize that she was a really special person. She actually thought that he could do something with his life. She actually listened when he talked, and didn't just nod and smile. She thought other things were more important than looks. She didn't think it was weird when he wanted to draw pictures. And to top that off, she was so smart, and so brave, and so beautiful, that she made him weak in the knees. Even when a Strigoi held her captive, she stayed calm and brave and lovely. And he realized he had only been a fool to think that the other girl was the best he could hope for. And he realized he was only a victim of his own low expectations of himself. And the beautiful human girl helped him realize all of that."

"I'm glad," I said. "I'm so glad he realized it."

"Oh, he was too," he said, his voice full of emotion. "And so then one day, the vampire boy and the human girl shared an amazing kiss that surprised both of them. And they realized they had to be together, even if it was a little strange for a vampire boy and a human girl to be together. And they were happy, for a few months. They were always laughing, when they weren't kissing. And while they were together, the vampire boy began to want to become more of a vampire _man_. He wanted to be the kind of man who this human girl deserved. And he wanted to keep all his spirit whole, so that he could do spirit tricks for her and make her happy, so he stopped drinking so much. And he didn't miss it, because the human girl filled up the hole in his heart, and took away the darkness."

"I hope she stayed with him forever," I said.

"Well, she got scared and ran away for a while. And it made both of them very sad to be apart. But then she came back again."

"That was a smart decision," I said.

"And then this little vampire boy, who was now a quite tall vampire man, was very happy. And the human girl was happy too, I think."

"I think she was too," I said.

"Good. And then... And then one day, the two of them lay cuddled up in their bed. And the vampire man said, 'Let me tell you a story,' and then he said, 'Once upon a time, there was a little vampire boy named Adrian.'"

"And later on?" I asked. "What happened after he told her the story?"

"I don't know," Adrian said. "But I think everything was alright. For weeks" - he kissed me - "and months" - he kissed me again - "and years."

"Hmmm," I said, snuggling against him. "That was a sad story. But a good one. I liked the ending. You have a fine sense of narrative development."

"Is that so?"

"And," I murmured sleepily, "your successful use of conduplicatio serves to..." - I yawned - "... serves to heighten the affectedly... rustic style of storytelling."

Adrian whispered in my ear, "You know you get me hot when you talk like that." But he just squeezed me tight. "Now rest a little, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

I made a sleepy sort of noise and closed my eyes. "I want to talk to you more about your story," I said. "It was important."

"I know," he said. "But we can talk about it later."

"I'll never fall asleep," I said, and dozed off almost immediately, warm in Adrian's arms.

* * *

><p>I woke up suddenly when my phone rang. Adrian grabbed my phone off the floor for me and cast it a puzzled look before he handed it on to me. I recognized Jill's number and answered.<p>

"This is Sydney," I said.

"Did I wake you?" Jill said, sounding puzzled.

"No," I said, and yawned, holding my mouth away from the phone. "I was just resting a second. What's up?"

"Oh," she said. "I was just wondering when you were coming home. Um. It's ok if you can't right now."

"I can come back," I said. "Do you want me to?"

"Yes," Jill said. She sounded like she was crying. "Please. If you can, I mean. I don't want to interrupt or anything but I feel so weird and alone because Adrian's gone from my head and Eddie won't talk to me and I don't really have any other friends except Micah but Micah hangs out with Eddie so it's weird."

"Ok," I said. "I'll be there soon."

"Thanks," she said, sniffing. "You're the best, Sydney."

"Thanks," I said, and we said goodbye and hung up.

"Was that Jill?" Adrian asked when I put the phone back down on the floor.

"Yes," I said.

"Why didn't you have her number saved in your phone?"

"Oh," I said. "I don't save anyone. I prefer to memorize the numbers."

"But then how can you assign cute ringtones and stuff to your phone?" he asked. "When it's me calling, your phone should play something really great. Like... 'Stairway to Heaven' or maybe 'I'm Too Sexy.'" He grinned.

"That'd be interesting to explain to people," I said. "'Oh hey,'" I said, pretending to look at a ringing phone. "'It's my brother calling. I think he's sexy. So I gave him that ring tone. What, that's weird?'"

Adrian laughed that low, sweet, musical laugh that always set off happy ripples inside of me. I wanted to _eat_ that laugh. "You should totally do that," he said. "It'd be great."

"Ok," I said. "I'm on it." I got up from the bed, feeling more or less steady now. "But for right now, I've really got to get back to Amberwood."

"I know," Adrian said, standing up too. "Jill needs you and stuff. Poor little bit. She sounded so sad on the phone. So what are you going to do to cheer her up?"

"I'm not sure," I said, as we started walking down the hall to the living room, holding hands. "I guess I'll have to participate in some sort of female bonding activity with her."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Really, Sage?" he said. "I didn't know this about you. That sounds hot. Can I watch?"

"Sure," I said, cheerfully. "We're probably going to paint each other's nails. Maybe braid each other's hair."

Adrian sighed theatrically. "Fine, fine," he said. "Ruin my fun." He winked. "Oh hey," he added, with an air of careful indifference. "Next Thursday is my art exhibition. If you're not doing anything, maybe you'd like to drop by."

"Of course I'll go," I said. "I'll come the whole time. I'm really proud of you."

"Thanks," he said, looking down at the floor. "It's not really a big deal though. Just a little thing."

"It's a big deal," I said. "It's a big deal to me. Do you need any help getting your paintings to the exhibit space?"

Adrian's face lit up. "I do actually," he said. "I didn't want to ask you, but... you do have that huge tank of a car."

"Hey," I said. "I won't hear you disparaging Latte."

"I'm not disparaging anything," he said. "I'm happy Latte is so... capacious," he said. At my surprised expression, he said, "Word of the day email. I subscribed a few months ago so I could understand you when you talk."

I smiled, but didn't comment. "So I'll come over on Thursday and bring you to the exhibition?"

"Yes, please," he said. "Maybe I can talk the school into excusing you for the day. I'm very persuasive, you know."

"Don't use your powers for evil," I said.

"Evil?" he said. "I'm not evil. I'm good." He leaned close and murmured in my ear, "I'm very good."

I felt my pulse begin to spike. "Stop it," I whispered, smiling, as he kissed my neck.

He pulled away. "Hmm?"

"I have to get back to Jill," I said. And then my resolve wavered and I pulled him back into a kiss. He laughed as he pulled away a moment later.

"Ok, ok," he said. "One of us has to have some sense here. You have to get back to little Jailbait. But I'll see you tonight? In a dream? We could go somewhere romantic. We've never been to Fiji, have we?"

"Fiji would be amazing," I said. "But I think I just need a night off. I just want to sort of... think." I smiled at him and ran a hand over his face. "Nothing bad, don't worry. I just need to sort through everything that happened."

"Fair enough," he said. "I guess I should do a bit of thinking too. Maybe I'll paint something. That always helps me think."

"Ok," I said. I paused, then added, "I think your paintings are really well-executed. I think that you show skill and promise."

He grinned. "Most girlfriends would just say 'you're awesome, baby.'"

"Is that what you want me to say?" I asked.

"Abso-fucking-lutely not," he said. "I like it how you say it."

We stood at the door. I went to open it, but he put his hand on mine, preventing me from turning the handle, and said, "I'm so glad you came over last night."

Was it only last night? Had only 18 hours or so passed? It felt like weeks. "I'm glad too," I said, stroking his face. "I can't say how glad I am."

"Are you guys going to come over tomorrow after Jill's feeding?" he asked, his hands going to my waist.

"I thought you went to Dorothy on Mondays," I said. "I thought we'd see you there."

"I won't really need to see her tomorrow," he said, evasively, but I caught his meaning.

"Oh," I said. "You took that much?"

"It wasn't so much," he said. "But it was enough for a day or two. Your blood is amazing." He pulled me close. "Your kisses are amazing too. Let me have a couple for the road."

"_I'm_ going on the road, not y-mmmph," I said. A minute or two later, I pulled myself resolutely away, opened the door, and stepped out into the hall. He tried to kiss me again, but I pulled away further. "What if people here see? I'm supposed to be your sister."

"Our family is just really unusually close," Adrian whispered. His voice was like honey.

"I'll see you tomorrow," I said. "We'll all come over."

"Ok," he said. "Goodbye then, I guess."

"Goodbye," I said.

Suddenly he grabbed me and pulled me back inside. He leaned me against the door to close it again and kissed me fiercely for a long, long moment. I ran my hands over his back, not wanting the moment to end. Finally, he let me go. "Ok," he said. "Go quickly before I grab you again." He winked, and I took a deep breath and opened the door again and stepped back out into the hall.

He stood in the doorway and I walked down the hall backwards, unable to take my eyes off of him. But at the end of the hall, I had to turn and open the door to the stairwell. We both sort of waved at each other as I stepped through the door and closed it behind me.

_A/N: Hi! Thanks for reading, as always. I hope you're enjoying the story._

_So, my flight is on Sunday. I'll be traveling about 6 time zones away, so things will be a bit weird for a day or two. I think things will settle down by Thursday or so, so maybe I'll have a chapter up by Friday or so. On the other hand, since I'll have nothing to do on the airplane but write, maybe I'll make some headway. We'll see. :)_

_But please keep reviewing, so I know that people are actually reading. :)  
><em>


	26. I: You Think You Know

**Book 1**

**Chapter 21: You Think You Know Someone**

On the way home from Adrian's place, I stopped off at a drugstore and bought a few random shades of nail polish. When I got back to Amberwood, I found Jill sitting under her tree. Her face was swollen and puffy from crying, but she smiled when she saw me.

"You're back," she said.

"And I have nail polish," I said.

She actually laughed. "To cheer me up?"

"Well, you painted my nails when I was sad," I said. "I assumed it was the protocol among female friends."

Jill laughed again. "I guess it is with us, anyway," she said. "Ok, let's see what you got."

I showed her the colors I had chosen, and then we sat for a bit, painting each other's nails and talking about things that didn't really matter. It was the first time I had ever painted anyone's nails, and the endeavor was a little more complicated than I would have imagined. Still, I don't think the point was the nail polish itself. I knew from experience that sometimes when you're sad, you just want someone to sit with you. I don't know if I cheered Jill up at all, but I know that for a few hours, she didn't feel quite as bad, and that was all I could do for her.

At dinner time, we walked over to the dining hall and found a table together. Mindful of Adrian's advice about replenishing my iron supply, I chose the spinach salad and a few slices of lean beef. I tried to calm down my thoughts about the number of calories I was having by not adding any dressing. Eddie sat with Micah at a different table, and both of them were surreptitiously staring at Jill. It was a little uncomfortable.

"I don't understand," Jill said to me in an undertone. "I thought I knew Eddie so well. I don't understand why he's acting like this. It isn't like him to... do what he did."

"Which is what, exactly?"

"He kissed me, and I mean, really kissed me." She blushed. "And then he all but told me that he didn't really care about me that way."

"Well, there's two possibilities," I said. "Either he was lying when he kissed you, or he lied later on. So either he lied with his body, or with his words. Which seems more likely?" It was the Socratic method of instruction, to teach by asking questions. My father had always done it to me growing up.

Jill thought about that. "That's an interesting way to think of it," she said. "Neither seems like him. But... I especially can't imagine Eddie lying with his body. He's so... physical, you know? He always means what he does. He'll be quiet sometimes for a long time, but he's still present. He's _with_ me." She sighed. "Or he was, anyway."

"So," I said. "The more likely possibility is that he lied when he said he didn't care about you."

"But why would he do that?"

"Why does Eddie do everything he does?" I asked.

"To protect someone," Jill said. "It always comes back to that."

"Well," I said, "then why would he have lied to you?"

"You're saying he was protecting me?"

"I'm not saying anything," I said. "I'm just asking questions."

"But why would he protect me by lying?" Jill asked. "I don't get it."

"Is there any reason that he would think that it would harm you if you were together romantically?" I asked.

"I guess because of his job," she said. "He would get in trouble with the other guardians if he made out with his Moroi."

I sighed. That wasn't it at all. "But let's assume he was protecting _you_, not himself," I said. "How could he protect you by staying apart?"

"Maybe he thinks I'm too young to really be in a relationship," she said. "And since he can't really date someone so young, or ever really get serious with me, he's just stopping it now."

"Maybe," I said, though that wasn't it either. I wished I could tell her, but I couldn't betray Eddie's confidence like that.

"It doesn't matter," Jill said, sadly. "He doesn't want to be with me. It doesn't matter why. Something I did scared him or something, and he won't explain it, and he won't talk to me or even sit with me." She gave me a wry smile. "At least my nails look good."

"Look, Jill," I said. "You know Eddie really well. He's your good friend. Give him the benefit of the doubt. Don't let him scare you away just because he's acting like an idiot right now. Everyone acts like an idiot from time to time. It takes true generosity to forgive that."

"I'll do my best," she said.

"You always do," I said.

"So does Eddie," Jill said miserably, and was quiet through most of the rest of dinner.

* * *

><p>That night after dinner, I went back to my dorm room to make two phone calls. I was looking forward to one of the them, but not the other.<p>

I decided to get the unpleasant call out of the way. I sat down and dialed a number from memory, and after two rings, an annoyed voice on the other end of the line said, "What do you want, alchemist?"

"Hi, Rose," I said. "How are you?"

"Fabulous," she said. "I don't have a lot of time to talk. Things are really crazy at court. They caught a strange Moroi trying to lay surveillance equipment in the throne room. No one is really sure why. And the guy escaped before we could question him at length. So, yeah, we're busy here."

"Any movement on the age-law issue?" I asked, not sure what answer I was hoping for. On the one hand, I kind of liked the current stasis. On the other hand, if the assignment ended, maybe Adrian and I would be free to pursue... something... together.

"None," Rose said, tersely. "Is that why you called?"

"Not really," I said. I paused. "Adrian and I sort of worked things out," I said.

"That's good," Rose said, cautiously. "Is it going to stick, you think?"

"Yes," I said. "It's going to stick. Like a solvent based adhesive."

"Good," Rose said. "That's what I want to hear." She paused. "How is he?"

"He's fine," I said.

"What is he up to these days?" Rose asked. "Is it true that he quit smoking? What is he doing with his time?"

"It's true that he quit, yes," I said. "And well, he's doing a lot of things. He has an art exhibition coming up on Thursday."

"Art exhibition?" Rose repeated, surprised. "He's _that_ serious about painting?"

"Yes," I said. "Didn't you know how much he liked to draw and sketch?"

"No," Rose said. "I never heard anything about it."

"He's always liked to draw," I said. "Since he was little."

Rose laughed. "Adrian?" she said, incredulous. "You've got to be kidding."

"I'm not kidding," I said.

"Weird," Rose said. "You think you know a guy!"

I wanted to point out that maybe Rose had never really known him at all, but even I knew that it would be rude to point that out. So instead, I just said, "I think he'd like it if you called him to say congratulations on the exhibition."

"You really think so?"

"Yes," I said. "Just a quick call, so he knows you still care a little."

"Of course I still care," Rose said. "I think Adrian is a great guy. Handsome, charming, fun..." She trailed off.

"And generous, kind, witty, caring, sensitive, creative, vibrant, loyal, and occasionally brilliant," I said.

Rose paused. "I guess maybe didn't know him as well as I should have." She took a deep breath. "I hate the way he takes the victim role on himself, but I know that I treated him badly. "

"You really did," I said. "But it's ok. He's really fine now. But I think he'd like it if you called."

"I guess I will then," Rose said, a little more cheerfully. "I would really like to be his friend someday. I'll take your word on it about him appreciating the call, since apparently you're the Adrian expert now."

"Well, maybe not an expert," I said.

"But you're studying like the final exam is any day now, right?" Rose said, and laughed. "So is that why you called? To brag about how happy you and Adrian are now?"

"No," I said. "I wanted to talk to you about Eddie. And what happened to you guys in Spokane."

I could almost feel Rose shudder on the other end of the line. "Wow," she said. There was a very long pause, and when she spoke again, all the laughter was gone from her voice. "Why do you want to ask about that?" she asked. "It can't possibly be relevant to you."

"It has bearing," I said. "I think Eddie is experiencing some sort of long-term effects from it. It would be helpful to me as both his colleague and his friend if I knew what happened to him."

"All guardians have experienced awful things," Rose said. "Why do you need the specifics?"

"I can't help him unless I understand what he went through," I said.

"Why do you need to help him?"

"Because he's my friend and colleague. And I think that whatever happened to him is impacting his relationship with Jill, which in turn is impacting both of our jobs."

"What relationship with Jill?"

"There's nothing inappropriate going on," I said, and crossed my fingers. "But in any case, there's something wrong with Eddie, and I'd like to understand. I feel like it was something more than just seeing a friend die." I paused. "I know you've seen friends die, and you don't seem quite as... well, scarred as Eddie is."

"I guess that's true," Rose said, thoughtfully. She drew in a slow breath. "If I tell you, it won't go any further, will it?"

"Not without your permission," I said.

"God, I hate talking about this shit," Rose said. "Ok, so it wasn't my idea."

She launched into the story of how she followed some of her friends, including Eddie, on their vengeance fueled trip to Spokane. She told me how they were all captured and tortured by Strigoi. By the end of the story, I found myself brushing away tears. I had always respected Eddie for his calm professionalism, but I gained even more respect for his strength of character after knowing what he had gone through. The Strigoi had drunk from him constantly, keeping him in a state of useless bliss while his friends had been tied up and slowly starved. Then one of the Strigoi had killed Mason, Eddie's best friend, right in front of him.

The event had probably changed Eddie forever. He had come out of all of this even more driven and devoted to his job as guardian, which I could understand. But it wasn't just that. He had lost his best friend, and perhaps just as momentous, had been treated as a plaything by the Strigoi. I knew how strong the high from a Strigoi bite was, and wondered what it would be like to be bitten repeatedly by one. Did Eddie get addicted to the feeling? Did a part of him miss it?

Of course, I couldn't ask Rose this. I just thanked her for the information, and for her trust in me. I assured her I wouldn't tell anyone else, but asked her if it would be ok to talk about it with Adrian.

"Why do you want to talk about it with him?" she asked.

"Because I talk about everything with him," I said.

She paused. "It's funny," she said. "There were a lot of times that I kept him out of the loop. I guess I thought I couldn't trust him with the truth about certain things. But you know, he never once betrayed a confidence. And he knows a lot of things. Even when he was furious with me, he didn't do anything to get revenge on me or anything."

"He wouldn't have done that," I said.

"No," she said. "But I guess you kind of learn a lot about someone when you see what they do with their power, you know? He could have put me in Terasov with what he knows about me."

"So could I," I said, and she laughed.

"Please don't!" she said.

"I won't," I said. "So is it ok if I tell Adrian about Eddie?"

"Ok," she said. "As long as you think he can keep it from Jill in his mind."

"He's doing really well with that lately," I said, glossing over my involvement in the matter.

After that I asked a few more questions about the surveillance equipment that had been found in the Moroi Court, but Rose either didn't know more or wouldn't tell me. I wondered if I should contact my supervisor about the matter to find out what the alchemists knew. Then Rose and I chatted a little more about her life. She was living with Dimitri now, she said, and her voice practically glowed with happiness even over the phone. Then we said our goodbyes.

By then it was kind of late. I was too tired to do any homework, and anyway over the last three weeks I had gotten so far ahead in every subject that there really wasn't anything to do. So I got ready for bed and crawled beneath the sheets. When I was comfortable, I grabbed my phone again and dialed a different number.

"Hello, sweetheart." Adrian's voice on the phone sent a happy thrill through me, as it always did.

"Hi," I said. "How was your day?"

"I cleaned up the whole house," he said. "It's like a frickin' pine forest in here now. You'd love it. Come over."

I smiled. "I'll smell for myself tomorrow."

He laughed, then asked me how my day had gone. I told him about hanging out with Jill, and how sad she was.

"What exactly is wrong with her?" Adrian asked, and I realized I hadn't told him about the info I had wriggled out of Jill.

"She and Eddie had some sort of... encounter. I'm not exactly sure. It involved kissing."

"Wow," said Adrian. "I didn't see that one coming."

"Apparently, she was affected by... what we were doing."

Adrian groaned.

"Well, what's done is done," I said. "Anyway, that's not really why I called."

"Is that so?" Adrian said, his voice low and musical. "Why did you call then? Because you missed me?"

"Well, partially," I said. "But also, I wanted to say thank you."

"For what?"

"For... everything. For the backrub last night, and for the, um, other thing." I paused, and Adrian laughed. "Don't laugh," I said. "That was amazing. And thank you for the scrambled eggs this morning. And for, um, the orange juice later. And for not..." I paused, utterly flummoxed as to how to explain what I was thankful for. "I'm glad you didn't listen to me. I'm glad that you didn't..."

"Didn't take advantage of you?"

"I guess so," I said.

"You don't have to thank me for any of that," Adrian said. "I loved doing every bit of that. Well, I didn't love telling you 'no', but I had to, you know? I would never hurt you. And really, Sage, I should be thanking you. You walked right in to an apartment with a crazed vampire. You saw me throwing plates and breaking furniture, and what did you do? You just took it in stride. You bandaged me, kissed me, held me, talked me down, and then healed me, soul and body. You trusted me, which was a real gift. You let me see you, and be with you. And to top that all off, you saved me a visit to Dorothy." He laughed again. "I have to say, Sage, I've been feeling great all day. What do you put in your blood, anyway?"

I laughed too. "Lots of caffeine," I said. "Occasionally some oxygen and platelets. But mostly just caffeine."

"Is that the trick?" Adrian said. "Anyway, thank you, my darling, beautiful, fierce, golden-eyed girl. I haven't felt this good in years. And you? Are you ok now?"

"I'm great," I said. "The light-headedness passed."

"That's good," he said. "But I guess I meant... you haven't changed your mind about us or anything?"

"No," I said. "I would tell you if I had."

He laughed. " I don't doubt that," he said.

We talked a little bit about when exactly we'd visit tomorrow, and then said goodnight. When we hung up, I cuddled under the blankets to go to sleep. I thought about the last time I had gone to sleep in this bed, and how much had changed in the time in between.

"Keep it like this," I thought to God. "Please. Keep it like this for as long as You can."

As it turned out, that wasn't going to be very long.


	27. I: Awkward

**Chapter 22: Awkward All Around  
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The next day was Monday, and that meant the usual classes and stuff. At lunch, I sought out Eddie, and found him eating by himself on a stretch of grass in the bright sun. It was exactly the kind of place where Jill was unlikely to go, I realized. I sat down to talk to him, and we caught up a little on how our lives were going, but I couldn't get him to confirm or deny anything about what was happening between him and Jill.

"There's nothing to tell," Eddie said. "I made a mistake." The bitterness in his voice made me wince. "Add it to my list of mistakes. At least this one didn't get anyone killed."

"No," I said. "But you're being illogical."

"Excuse me?"

"You care for her. She cares for you. You've confirmed a certain physical compatibility..." At that, Eddie let out a bark of laughter, a harsh sound, devoid of joy. I went on. "... And you clearly get along as friends. Your races are compatible. It's not like one of you is a human or something. So, just get over it and tell her that you're crazy about her and that you're sorry."

"I can't," he said. "I know you won't understand why, but I just can't."

I also tried to talk to him about Spokane, but he wouldn't talk about it at all. In fact, at the simple mention of the word, the pain in his face became so obvious that I regretted having even brought it up. Luckily, that was the moment that Kristina and Julia interrupted our conversation by sitting down with us.

I suspected that Kristina's real plan was to gather information about the so-called date I'd gone on with Bryan, and while she was at it, to be as physically close to Eddie Castille as she could be. Julia probably had similar motives, only as usual she was more interested in how Adrian was. I wanted to tell both of them to give up the chase, considering that Eddie was caught up in Jill, and that Adrian was... well, off-limits. But it was a fun lunch anyway, for once. Eddie was a bit more light-hearted than I had seen him recently, and it was nice to have a more normal conversation about school gossip. I realized that maybe it was good for us to get outside of our little group of "siblings" from time to time.

Later that day, it was time for a feeding, and we all piled into Latte as usual. Angeline came along, but she was more subdued than I had seen her recently. I felt bad for her, so I asked her how things were going for her in her classes.

"I'm failing everything," she said, sullenly. "I didn't get born some sort of natural genius like some people. I only know about things that actually matter."

"Oh," I said. "Well, if you need tutoring in something, let me know. I'd be happy to help you."

Angeline snorted. "I'd rather fail."

"It's your choice," I said.

"Didn't you tell me that you wanted to stay out here in regular society, even after this assignment was over?" Jill asked. "Passing your classes will help with that. I know that the Keepers aren't big on these things, but I think that you're smart enough to learn anything you want to, if you work hard enough."

"I pretty much changed my mind about all of that," Angeline said. "I am ready to go back home any day now."

"And end up the second of three wives to someone?" Jill asked. "You deserve better, Angeline."

Angeline made no reply, and suddenly the atmosphere in the car was even tenser.

"I think what Jill means-" I said, but Angeline interrupted.

"I know what Jill means," Angeline said. "Ya'll have no respect for my family or where I come from, or my way of life. It's fine. I wouldn't expect ya'll to understand."

"Maybe I don't understand," Jill said. "But you're my friend, and I'm just trying to help."

"You're not my friend," Angeline said. "You're my job. You've made that clear enough. Now shut the hell up because I am sick of listening to your annoying voice."

"So, um, Eddie," I said. "How are things going for you?"

"Great," Eddie said. "The entire football team hates me for pulling Bryan off of you."

"Yeah, good job, Sydney," Angeline said. "Good job all around."

"Ok," I said. "So, we're almost to Clarence's. Let's just... listen to the radio."

It was the first time I had gone to a feeding since Adrian and I had reconciled, and I was surprised to see how well Clarence and Angeline got along. He had a soft spot for all young women, and he seemed to find her charming. She really could be, when she wanted to. The two of them chatted happily for half an hour while Eddie stood at attention near the door and I sat with Jill

After the visit to Clarence's, we all went over to see Adrian. The apartment still smelled faintly of pine cleanser from Adrian's big clean-up effort, but the more dominant smell was paint. Adrian had apparently been painting like crazy and several half-finished masterpieces were hidden under cloths, away from prying eyes. It was an awkward visit all around. Adrian and I kept accidentally casting each other warm glances, and Eddie was studiously not looking at Jill, and Jill was fighting back tears, while Angeline kept balling her hands up into fists.

We called it a day early, but Adrian walked us down to the car. After we all got in, he came around to the driver's window to tell me something. I rolled down the window and he leaned inside to whisper something in my ear, something that started with the phrase, "Next time I get you alone..." By the time he was done whispering, I had turned crimson and he grinned. "See you later," he said cheerfully to everyone, and went back inside. I had to take a few minutes to pull myself together before I put the key in the ignition.

Adrian sent me a text that night saying that he was in the middle of a masterpiece, and asking if it would be ok if we did a dream tomorrow night instead? I felt faintly annoyed but I knew that it was a good thing for him to be doing his own thing. I didn't want us to be too dependent on each other. So I texted back saying that it was fine, and that I would see him tomorrow instead.


	28. I: Reset

**Chapter 23: Reset**

I spent the rest of Monday evening thinking about what Adrian had whispered to me through the car window, occasionally feeling another blush rise to my cheeks. He had been extremely... emphatic. Would we be doing... that... tonight in our dream? Didn't we have to talk? We kept saying that we were going to talk, but to tell the truth, I wasn't really looking forward to a serious conversation, even though I knew it was important.

I guess Adrian wasn't looking forward to it either, because after dinner, I got a text from him asking if it would be ok if we moved our dream-visit, the one we had planned for that night, to the next night instead. He said that he was in the middle of a new masterpiece and didn't want to lose his momentum, but that seemed more like an excuse than the truth. Still, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. So I texted back saying that it was fine, and that I would see him tomorrow instead.

Tuesday passed in the usual fashion, and I tried to be productive. I made it to volleyball practice – which I had had to miss the previous day when I took Jill to Clarence's – and I was much more careful with my calories than I had been the previous day. I found myself looking forward to Adrian's dream-visit all day. I wanted to get that conversation behind us, and I wanted to... well, find out more about what Adrian had whispered to me through the car window. But he didn't answer the phone when I called him that night before I went to sleep, and the time between falling asleep and waking up was time that I spent completely alone.

I woke up surprised and upset. I couldn't believe it. He had stood me up.

All day Wednesday I expected some sort of word of explanation from him, but I received none. He didn't respond to the text I sent at lunch, and didn't answer when I called after dinner. Finally, I lay down to go to sleep, wondering where he was, how he was, and what was happening. I didn't want to get upset over nothing, but after everything we'd been through, to not hear from him for a while was worrying. I wasn't angry; if he needed space, that was fine. But I wanted to know what was going on. And worse, I just _missed_ him. As I tried to get comfortable under my blankets, I missed his arms around me, missed his scent. I was aware that it was strange to miss something that I had experienced so few times in real life. Finally, I drifted away to sleep.

And then...

I looked up suddenly.

Adrian was painting. He was wearing a pair of paint-splattered jeans, and I saw a few streaks of paint on his bare chest. I wanted to run to him, touch him, see if that paint on him was still wet – but at the same time, I didn't want to disturb his concentration. He was painting a strange, dark landscape, quite different from his usual paintings. His body blocked most of it and all I could see was one side, depicting a path through a tangle of thorns. I thought there might be a human figure in the painting, but I couldn't quite see it. Intrigued, I took a step closer, and I guess he heard me because he turned around.

"Woah," he said, when he saw me. "How did _you_ get here?"

I was a little hurt at his reaction. "Nice to see you, too," I said.

"It's always great to see you, Sage," he said, though he didn't exactly look happy. "I'm just surprised. Seriously, how did you get here at this hour? It has to be after 2 or 3 in the morning."

I looked around. How _had_ I gotten here? It was Adrian's living room, complete with the garish yellow walls and the ugly plaid couch. But... was it really? How _had_ I gotten here?

"I don't know what happened," I said. "I was lying down to sleep and then I was here..."

Adrian looked around the room, then closed his eyes for a moment in apparent concentration. A pint of vanilla Haagen-Daaz ice cream appeared in his hands. He held it out to me significantly, and I looked away, a little ashamed for some reason. I had just begun to understand, but Adrian spelled it out for me anyway. "You did it again, Sage," he said. "You pulled me into a spirit-dream."

"I didn't mean to," I said. "I don't even know how I did it." Why did I feel as if I had to apologize for this? Adrian pulled me into spirit-dreams all the time. What could possibly be the problem? _Only that you have gotten yourself into some serious problems by invading Adrian's dreams,_ the Traitor suggested in my head.

As if he'd heard that thought, Adrian said, "At least you didn't invade my actual dream this time." His tone was icy now. He took a step away from the painting, and automatically, I moved my head a little to be able to see it better. He noticed my movement, and the painting disappeared before I could get a good look at it. "That's not ready for you to see yet," he said.

"Okay," I said, holding my hands up as if warding off a blow to the chest. "Let's stop right here. Are you angry at me?"

Adrian paused, and then took a deep breath and let it out. "I'm sorry, Sage," he said. "I'm not angry. Come here." He took a few steps towards me and then folded me into a hug. We stood there for a moment, and I felt his body relax against me."Ohhhh, Sage," he sighed, rocking me. "You smell good." He kissed my cheek, and I smiled. For a moment I could almost forget that there had been anything amiss. But I wasn't going to just let it go.

"Let's clear the air," I said, as we pulled apart. "Like I said, this dream-visit tonight was an accident on my part. However, to be honest, I am glad it happened. I've been wanting to talk to you. You stood me up the other night. What is going on?"

Adrian looked away. "I know. I have been sort of incommunicado. I bet you're angry, huh?"

"No, I'm not," I said. "A little annoyed, sure, but not angry."

Adrian looked at me, clearly surprised. I think he had expected me to be angry. "I'm sorry," he said again. "I should have called. I just... needed some time."

"Time for what?"

"I don't know. Time to be an idiot, I guess." He sighed again. "I'm a shit, Sage. You knew that going into this. I'm terrible at all of this. I just-"

"Okay, no," I said, interrupting him. "Stop with that. Don't say things like that. Don't get mad at me, and don't get mad at yourself." I took his hands in mine. "You're better than that."

He smiled at me, maybe the first genuine smile I'd seen on his face that night. "Thanks, Sydney." He kissed my cheek.

"Don't thank me," I said. "Just stay with me. Something happened. There's something going on. Let's talk. We've been avoiding this talk so carefully that if we had put half the energy into _having_ it that we did into _avoiding_ it, we would have been done ages ago. We could be relaxing on the beach in Rio right now."

Adrian smiled mischievously. "Want to go to Rio? I hear they have great mojitos."

"Not right now," I said. "Let's just go to our forest."

"It's _our_ forest?" Adrian said, surprised. "You think of it as 'ours'?"

His face registered both surprise and pain all of a sudden, and at first I didn't understand why. Then I remembered the dream, the... awful dream, the dream that had terrified me, and precipitated the fight and our breakup. I remembered running through his wall, out through a door in a tree, and into the forest. I remembered telling him that he wasn't allowed in "my forest." And we hadn't gone there together since that awful night, I realized, and the knowledge was like a stone in my stomach. "Oh, Adrian," I whispered, and kissed him. "Of course it's ours. I'm sorry that I ever said anything different."

"Ok," he said, and gave me a sort of sad smile. "Then... let's go." He gestured to the corner of his room where the door usually opened, and the door appeared. We held hands and walked through it.

On the other side of the door, I saw our red blanket spread out over the pine needles, and even a few fluffy pillows. We sat down on the blanket, arranging the pillows so that we could lean against them comfortably. Adrian took my hand, and we sat quietly for a few minutes. I stroked his hand, trying to let him know that I would listen to whatever he had to say, whenever he was ready to talk.

Finally, he said, "It's weird. I thought I wasn't angry at you. When you came over the other night, and you saved me from the darkness, and we... well, you know, on the boat... I mean, I thought everything would be ok after that. But after I had time to think about it, I realized that I was still angry. Or rather, that the anger kept returning... I don't know how to explain it."

I thought about what he had said. "Like a computer resetting. You kept resetting to 'angry'."

He squeezed my hand. "Yes," he said. "That's a good way to put it."

"Something like that used to happen to me," I said. "But not with anger. With fear. I thought I would be ok, but then I kept finding myself frightened, again and again."

"Oh," said Adrian, sounding resigned. "The _vampire_ thing. The _magic_ thing."

"Not really," I said, and then surprised myself by adding: "I was afraid you'd break my heart." That was probably one of those things that you're not supposed to actually say out loud, I realized a moment too late. Oh well.

"So you broke mine instead," Adrian surprised me by saying.

"I didn't mean to," I said, after a moment. "I didn't think I had the power to do that."

"You are much more powerful than you think," he said, and there seemed no way to reply to that, so we just sat quietly again, the silence a little more comfortable this time.

Finally, I spoke. "What were you mad about?" I asked.

"It doesn't matter," he said, and kissed my cheek. "I'll let it go."

"It does matter," I said. "I want to know. I want to make it right, if I can."

"I don't want to fight," he said.

"Then let's not fight," I said. "But tell me what's wrong. Please."

Adrian paused, then took a deep breath. "You snuck into a private dream," he said. "Not tonight. _That_ night. I know you didn't really quite know what you were doing, but that's what you did. You invaded a private dream, which is worse than reading someone's diary, you know? It's seeing weird sub-conscious things, maybe even things that I myself didn't know, or even just stray thoughts, nothing I'd act on or even want."

I wanted to point out that I had seen something he did want, but figured it would be a bad idea to do so. He was right about the privacy invasion, and I said as much. He nodded and continued talking.

"The worst thing, though, isn't that you came into a private dream. It's that you got angry about what you saw, when I had no control over it, and it wasn't even _for_ you. And!" he added, emphatically, his voice rising. "And! What you saw wasn't even really bad! It was normal. Well, normal for a guy like me who's dating a beautiful sexy girl like you." I winced at the compliment, considering the circumstances. "And you made me feel like I should have been ashamed of my own... wishes, even though they were normal. It messed with my head really bad for days. You called me a monster, and I started to think maybe I was one."

I squeezed his hand. "That was awful of me," I said. "You have every right to be angry. I should never have done that."

"And then you dumped me and wouldn't talk to me. Even though you missed me too. It doesn't make any sense."

"Not really, no," I said. I waited.

"And I was _so angry _at you" he said. He took a few deep breaths, as if to steady himself. "And I couldn't even quite let myself be angry because I missed you so much. But it was there, the whole time. I was so angry."

"That's fair," I said. "I understand that." I did, too. I was surprised that he'd been able to forgive me so quickly the other night, and it made sense that the forgiveness hadn't gone all the way down to the bottom of his heart. "I am really sorry," I said. "It feels stupid to say that. Like it's not enough."

"It's not stupid," he said. He pulled me close and kissed my cheek. "Saying 'sorry' is a good start. But can you explain it? I mean, why? Why you... well, dumped me?"

"It's a long story," I said, trying the familiar phrase out.

"I've got as long as it takes. Talk to me, Sydney."

So, I did. I told him about how I had thought that there was no way I could ever imagine someone like him wanting to be with me on a long-term basis. I told him how I pictured my life after he went back to the Moroi court without me, me with a broken heart, and him blithely continuing his life without me. I told him about how when I had broken up with him, I had thought that he would be sad for a day or two, and then be fine again. I talked for quite a while, and Adrian listened, not saying a word. When I was done, he was quiet for a long time.

"I don't know what to say," he said. "I'm sorry it was like that for you. I wish I had been better able to make you have faith in me."

"You were great," I said. "You were also so affectionate and open. I had faith in you. I just didn't think that you could possibly like me that much."

"Why not?"

"Why would someone like you, someone so... alive and charismatic and gorgeous... go for someone like me?"

A faint, sad smile crossed Adrian's face. "So you had faith in me," he said. "But you didn't have faith in _you._"

"I guess not," I said.

"Ok," he said. "Here's the deal, Sage. I think you're pretty much the greatest thing ever. The tops. The bees' pajamas and the cats' knees."

"Um, thanks," I said. I was pretty sure that that wasn't the saying, but I let it go.

"And I have good taste," he said. "Or at least, I had good taste the day I fell for you. I don't want to hear you saying bad things about yourself. Because you're awesome, Sage. Completely awesome."

I kissed him on the cheek. "You are too," I said. He kissed me lightly on the lips. After only a second or two, the heat began to rise between us. His tongue parted my lips gently, and then my arms went up around his neck as if on their own accord. We fell back on the blanket and a few minutes passed in which we said nothing at all. Finally we pulled away from each other, but lay close, smiling. He picked up a pine needle and ran it along the line of my jaw and then across my lips. But as I watched, his mood changed in front of me. It was like watching a cloud moving quickly across the sky, bringing rain. "What's wrong?" I asked.

"I missed you so goddamn fucking much," he said, and his voice was a hoarse whisper.

"I did too," I whispered.

"Don't ever do that again," he said. "Please. Please, promise me, Sage. Promise me you won't give up on me again."

"I won't," I said. "I promise."

"No matter what?"

"No matter what," I said.

"You'll have faith in me?"

"Of course."

"Because I have faith in you," he said.

"You do?"

"Yes. I have faith that you make everything alright somehow."

"That's weird," I said. "That's what I think about you. You make everything alright."

"You really think so?" he said, clearly surprised. "I feel like I always make a mess of things."

"I feel like everything was a mess while we were _apart_," I said.

"It was for me, too," he said. "I was a basket case."

"I think you held it together quite well," I said.

"You don't know," he said. "I had these awful dreams. Like that night I called you in the middle of the night. Do you remember that?" I nodded, and he went on. "I had had this dream that I was in a mental hospital. It was terrible. And in the dream, you were there, and you were one of the mob yelling at me. At least at first... And then I think you were on my side. It was nice then. And then you were in the bedroom with me, kissing me." He paused. "After that, actually, it was the nicest dream I'd had in a long time. Only then I thought that you were really there, and I pissed you off by calling and waking you up in the middle of the night."

"I have a confession," I said. Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Well, the thing is, um... I was there."

Adrian paused for a long moment. I saw several expressions pass over his handsome face – surprise, anger, frustration, and confusion. "Why didn't you admit it when I called out?" he asked, his tone hard to read.

"Partially because I didn't want to admit to you how much I was missing you," I said. "But mainly, it was because I knew you'd be mad at me. I knew you'd never forgive me for sneaking into another dream."

"I guess I should be mad," Adrian said. "But I have a feeling you made that nightmare into a much better dream. Did you? Did you change things in the dream while you were there?"

"A little," I said, and Adrian raised his eyebrows. "Ok, a lot, I guess," I admitted. I told him about how I had tried to control the doctor blobs who had been tormenting him, and then finally how I had taken over the other Sydney long enough to guide the nightmare into a pleasant dream.

"Did you... did you heal me? While you were there?"

"A little," I said again. "You were just in so much pain. I did it before I even knew I had."

"Did it upset you to see me... kissing you? The other you, I mean?"

"No," I said. "I was sad to see it. The look on your face... I was maybe just a little jealous of the other me. I wanted to knock her out of bed and take her place. At the time I thought I'd never get to kiss you again."

At that, Adrian leaned forward and kissed me for a long moment, then leaned back and looked at me. "You can kiss me pretty much any time you want."

I smiled, then brushed his hair back from his face. "I'll be taking you up on that," I said. "But I need to know if we're ok first. Can you forgive me for going into that dream?"

"And lying about it?" Adrian added.

"And lying about it, yes," I agreed.

He took a deep breath. "That one isn't that big a deal," he said. "I know you did a lot to make that dream more bearable for me. I'm glad you were there. It's hard to be angry about that. I wish you had told the truth about it when I called, but I can understand why you didn't. Just next time, you will, right?"

I wanted to say that there wouldn't be a next time – that I'd never invade his dreams again – but I wasn't sure if that was true. How could I promise that, when I wasn't even sure how I did it in the first place? "I'll respect your privacy as best I can in the future," I said. "And I will never lie to you ever again."

He stroked my face and ran a finger over my lips. The sensation distracted me, but I tried to keep my mind focused on the conversation. "I'll be honest with you, too," he said. "As honest as you'll let me be."

I almost asked him what that meant, but then I knew. The thing he'd been trying to tell me since Porto. I realized that I was ready to hear it now. Well, _almost_. "And I'll try to let you be more honest," I whispered, and he nodded. We contemplated each other in silence.

Then Adrian said, in a strained jocular tone, "Well, do you have any grievances to air against me?"

"Just the whole standing me up thing."

"Ah, yes. That. Well, I apologize for that. What can I do to make it up to you?" He leaned forward, and I felt his breath on my neck. He licked me, once, right below my ear. I shivered.

"You know what I want," I breathed.

"Do I?" He kissed my neck, then bit, very gently, on the soft skin.

"Yes," I said, huskily, then added, in a louder tone, "I want you to wash my car."

Adrian threw his head back and laughed. "Ok, Sage," he said, when he had recovered himself. "How about this. Next time you see a gas station, pull over, and I'll squeegee off your windshield for you."

"Front AND back windows," I said.

"Deal," he said. "Am I forgiven then?"

"Absolutely," I said.

"So neither of us is angry anymore?"

"No," I said. "Well, I'm not. Are you?"

He paused, as if feeling inside of his mind for anger. Finally, he smiled. "No," he said. "I'm not even angry about the car thing. I actually kind of like squeegeeing."

"I do too," I admitted. "It's oddly satisfying."

"Exactly," he said, and then leaned very close to me. "You know what else is satisfying?"

"What?" I was embarrassed that the word came out in that husky whisper again.

He answered me by pressing his lips to mine. It felt amazing, as it nearly always did, to be kissing him. I wondered again at how such a simple behavior should cause such a variety of sensations to run through me. And then I found myself thinking, yet again, about what he had said through the car window on Monday.

When we finally pulled apart for a moment, I whispered, "What did you mean, when you talked to me through the car window? When you said that you um... have a plan?"

"Plan?" Adrian repeated, affecting innocence.

"You remember what you said," I told him, and he grinned at me.

"I'm not sure I do," he said. "But you have an excellent memory. What did I say?"

I took a deep breath. "Your exact words were, 'you and I have to go to bed together really soon, Sage, because I have a plan. I'm going to take really, really, really good care of you.' "

He grinned again. "Your memory is so sexy," he commented.

"But what exactly did you mean?" I asked.

"Well, I don't want to ruin the surprise, Sage. But... let's put it this way. It's going to be the best sex than anyone ever had." I raised an eyebrow at him. "I'm not bragging," he went on. "I'm just stating a mathematical fact."

"I don't know if I've ever heard you express an interest in mathematics before," I said.

"Hey, I like all kinds of things, so don't tie me down!" He paused, then gave me a devilish smile. "Or maybe... _do_." I blushed, feeling my eyes grow wide, and then Adrian tackled me, lowering me down on the blanket with his hand on the back of my head so that my head would be protected. Our kiss deepened, and my thoughts got a little blurry for a long time. In quiet moments, however, I had the presence of mind to wipe away a little spirit-darkness from Adrian's mind.

When, a little while later, we lay back on the blanket for a moment to catch our breath, I said, "How has the mental wall between you and Jill held up? Can she hear you again?"

"Actually," Adrian said, "she called me today and said she could hear me again." He made a face. "She sounded happy about it."

"I think I can understand the psychology of that," I said. "People can get dependent on all sorts of things – email, video games, television, and so on. I can imagine getting used to having another voice in your head, and then missing it when it's gone."

Adrian considered that. "It's like the ultimate Facebook stalking," he said.

Even _I_ had heard of Facebook, and I smiled, glad to get one of his references. "Yes," I said. "Like that. Well, it's better for her that you keep a clear boundary between your minds." _And better for me and Adrian_, I added mentally. Out loud, I said, "Would you like to work together again to rebuild your walls, as we did a few days ago? I think it worked out well."

Adrian studied my face. "Why is it important to you that my walls are up?" he asked, innocently.

"There are many valid reasons," I said, in a business-like manner. "For one thing, it'll help Jill, as I mentioned previously. For another, it will allow you your privacy, which is considered by many a universal human right, though it is rarely protected by any recognized legislation."

"Right," said Adrian, nuzzling my neck. "Any other reason?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I said, and kissed him. He started to respond, but I leaned away. "Isn't your big art exhibition tomorrow?" I asked.

"Yes," Adrian answered, a big smile lighting up his face. "Are you still going to go?"

"Of course," I said. "Jill, Eddie, and I... and Angeline, I guess." I wrinkled my nose. "Are you sure about inviting her?"

"We have to make the girl feel welcome," Adrian said. "She's far from home, and she's lonely. She just wants some friends."

"Perhaps her definition of the term 'friends' is different from mine," I said. "Perhaps she includes attempted seductions of her friends' boyfriends in her friendship behavior." _Ex-boyfriends_, corrected the Traitor, and I had to admit she had a point, though out loud I said nothing.

"Ah, you heard about that," Adrian said. "Did you get at all jealous?"

"Not really," I said. Adrian studied my face. "Maybe a little," I admitted. Adrian still said nothing. "Okay," I said, finally. "It felt like a boiling vat of acid in my guts."

Adrian grinned. "That's how it felt for me when I heard about your date with whatshisname."

"Well, you had nothing to worry about."

"Neither did you," Adrian said, then leaned forward and whispered in my ear: "As if I'd ever want her when I've been near you. As if anyone on earth could compare to you."

I was so pleased and flattered at this that I was momentarily speechless. Finally, I sputtered, "That's the way it is for me, too. I... When we were apart, I remember thinking that I would never feel this way ever again. I thought that no other guy would ever make me feel like you do." I ran my fingers along his cheek, and he leaned into the caress.

"You know," he murmured, "sometimes when you touch me, it's like you leave little trails on my skin that I can feel for a little while afterward. Is that weird?"

I had no adequate words. I just kissed him again for a long while. It was heavenly.

But soon we noticed the pink tinge to the sky, and we knew it was time to stumble over to the tree, through the door, and back into Adrian's room. I undid his jeans and helped him out of them, but resisted the temptation of pulling off his silk boxers. As for me, I was wearing sleeping clothes anyway, a fact which Adrian pointed out in a semi-annoyed fashion.

"Next time I'll wear a woolen parka," I said. "To give you something to take off of me."

"Next time, don't wear anything at all," he growled in my ear, and I shivered happily.

We curled up in his bed as we'd done so many, many times. While we were lying quietly, we rebuilt Adrian's mental walls against Jill, and this time he made no comment about my motives. We talked for a while about the exhbition the next day, and we agreed that I'd come over at noon tomorrow during my double free to help him move some of his paintings to the exhibition hall. After that, we murmured a little bit quietly before we fell asleep, both of us feeling much more at peace than we had when the night began. In some ways, I hated to fall asleep in the dream, as it meant leaving Adrian behind. But I knew I'd be seeing him the next day, and I contented myself with that as sleep came to pull us apart.

I woke up in my own bed at Amberwood, as always in the position I had been in Adrian's bed. There were a few flakes of paint on my tank top. I remembered the paint splattered on Adrian's bare chest, and understood. Of course, thinking about Adrian's bare chest made me think about Adrian's silk boxers and so I had to force my brain into more productive channels, like my morning jog.

_A/N: So, I've been on the road for the past month or so, having weird adventures. You know how in my stories I put in lots of details about the places that A&S go – Rome, Porto, Venice? Well, that's because I travel a lot and actually go to these places! So this summer I'm in some places I've never been and I just haven't had a lot of time to work on my story. I've been sleeping on beaches, taking 2 am flights from one place where I don't speak the language to another place where I don't speak the language, and possibly, just possibly, drinking a little too much wine from time to time. So there are rarely times to sit down and write. Sometimes there's no electricity. Often there's no internet. I just get excited when there are proper toilets, to be honest._

_Plus, I got a little sad as I realized that I wouldn't be able to finish before TGL came out. I've come to accept that my story is now going to be sort of AU. Oh well._

_Anyway, I haven't abandoned the story. If you have abandoned the story, that's your business, not mine, but I think it's unkind to tell me so in the reviews. I'm going to keep writing until it's done. :) The good news is that some things that happened this summer are working their way into my story and I think you'll really enjoy it! Or at least, I hope you will. Plus, I really have written a lot of the later chapters. I swear I have._

_I haven't read TGL and I won't read it until I'm done with my story, so please don't spoil it in the reviews! And if by any chance anything that happens in my story is like something in TGL, that's coincidence. _

_Thanks for your ongoing interest in the story and I hope you're having a great summer, wherever you are (and wherever I am.). _

_-L_


	29. I: The Show Part 1

**Chapter 24: The Show (part 1)  
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After I had jogged and washed the paint-flakes off of me, I went to breakfast and class as usual, feeling at peace with the world. When my double-free period started, I ran out to the parking lot to hop into Latte as quickly as I could, just as I had done on so many Thursdays before. I had often run over to Adrian's just to have a few precious minutes actually alone together in real life. This time, however, I had a job in front of me – getting Adrian's paintings over to the gallery.

When I got to Adrian's apartment, he was waiting for me outside his building. He was wearing a dark pair of jeans and a white t-shirt and his hair was styled in that carefully messy way that looked so cute on him. He looked like he had stepped out of an advertisement for Abercrombie and Fitch. He was holding a Tupperware container of what could only be some sort of baked good. We kissed our hellos, and then when I started to ask Adrian where his paintings were, he said, "Actually, let's not worry about the paintings right now. Let's go over to your school. I want to talk to your office ladies a little."

"About what?" I asked.

"About getting you the rest of the day off." He gave me a winning grin and kissed me again, but I wouldn't be distracted so easily.

"What?" I asked, pushing him away gently. "I don't need the whole day off."

"No, but you want it, which is almost the same thing." He kissed me again, briefly, then got into the car. I stood there, shaking my head a little, then got into the car too. Adrian was holding the container in his lap.

"What did you make?" I asked, as I checked my mirrors. "Another cake?"

"Cupcakes," Adrian said. "Want to see?" He opened the top of the container and tilted it up slightly to show me. They were beautifully decorated cupcakes in several different colors."I'd offer you one, but I have to save them for the office ladies."

"They look delicious," I said, starting up the engine. "But that's ok, I'm still full from breakfast." I had had half a yogurt and two slices of melon, which was more than enough. "But I'm not sure about this plan. I'm not comfortable taking a day off from class."

"Oh come on, Sage," Adrian said. "Live a little." The smell of the cupcakes was filling the car.

I thought about it. I was ahead in all of my classes. In many classes, my overall average was actually over 100. I really could take the day off, I realized; there were no tests scheduled, no major projects due. And after all, I was at Amberwood to learn, not to build a college resume. I would never be able to go to college, not as Sydney Melrose, not as Sydney Sage. Heck, not even as Sydney Melbourne, no matter what strings Ms. Terwiliger could pull for me. So what did my grades matter?

"Not much," I muttered.

Adrian's sharp hearing picked up on what I had said. "Not much what?" he asked.

"That's how much chance those office ladies have against you," I said, as we turned onto the main road that led to the school. And I didn't have much chance, either, I realized. I was going to take the day off. And I felt great.

"You know it," Adrian said. I thought that he had had no idea that I had just made a major life decision, but he squeezed my hand as I held the clutch. I took a quick look at his face and his expression spoke volumes: affection, support, and joy. "Hey, you know what's crazy?" he said, in a carefully calm tone. "Rose called to congratulate me on the art exhibition. That was nice of her, don't you think? I didn't know she cared."

I had told her to call, but I was a little surprised that she had actually done so. "She cares," I said. I bit my lip. The question was, how much did Adrian care?

"It's nice to know that," Adrian said. He paused, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw him look out his window. "Maybe it sounds strange, but I hate the idea of having spent so much time with someone who never cared about me. It makes it easier to put it in the past if I know that she did care a little."

"It'd be impossible not to," I said, feeling some of my muscles relax. He was putting it in the past. That was exactly what I'd hoped he say.

We had just paused at an intersection, and I looked over at a him for a minute. He smiled at me and squeezed my hand again. The light changed, and I had to look back at the road.

When we got back to Amberwood, Adrian headed towards the main office, and I walked along with him, feeling slightly embarrassed. What was he going to do? Some students in the hallway looked at Adrian with interest as he passed, and he gave glowing smiles to anyone who he made eye contact with. "Try not to be so conspicuous," I murmured to him as we walked.

"What makes me so conspicuous?" Adrian said softly. "What am I doing?"

Being too ridiculously handsome? Being too charismatic? Being too sexy? "I don't know," I said. "Everyone is staring at you."

"They just want my cake," he said, grinning. "My cupcakes bring all the boys to the halls."

"I don't get the reference," I said.

"But you get that it _is_ a reference, which is progress, Miss Melrose."

By then we had reached the main office, and Adrian walked in as if he did it every day. Well, he _had_ done it before, at least a few times that I knew of.

"Marvelous Maryann, Rockin' Rita," Adrian said, in a smooth tone. "It is so lovely to see both of you again."

Maryann and Rita were the two office assistants who all but ran the school. It was true that neither of them was as powerful on paper as the principal or the deans, but since they made decisions about which excuses were legitimate and which ones weren't, they held the power to let kids out of class or to send them back. Both women were in their late 40s at least, but neither of them seemed immune to Adrian's flirtation. They greeted him happily.

"And what do you want, young man?" Rita asked, no anger to her tone.

"Just to give you these cupcakes I made," Adrian said, his voice like honey.

"Oh, you're so bad," Maryann said, smiling broadly. "We couldn't possibly." Despite her protestations, she was reaching into the container he was offering to her. She pulled out a pink frosted cupcake, unwrapped it quickly, and began eating it immediately. "This is really good," she said.

Adrian brought the container to Rita's desk. "They smell good," she said. She took out a chocolate frosted cupcake and began unwrapping it, just as her coworker had. As she took her first bite, Adrian said, in a gentle tone, "Sydney really needs the rest of the day off to help me set up my art exhibit."

"Of course," Rita and Maryann said at once, then continued munching their cupcakes.

"She should be allowed to take off as much time as she wants," Adrian added. "From this day forward."

"Of course," Rita and Maryann agreed.

"So, if she ever calls and asks for time off campus..."

"We'll give it to her," Rita said, through a mouth-full of cupcake.

"No questions asked," Maryann added, also through a mouth-full.

"Thanks so much, my lovelies!" Adrian said, warmly. "More cupcakes? Another for later?"

"Yes, please," the office workers chorused, and Adrian put one more cupcake on each of their desks. After a little more sweet-talking, he left, and we walked down the hall together. I was shaking my head.

"That was quite a show," I remarked as we walked away.

"I'm nothing if not a showman," Adrian said.

"What was in those cupcakes?" I asked, in an undertone.

"Nothing," Adrian said. He grinned. "Well, butter, sugar, eggs, flour, the usual."

"And...?"

"I may have charmed them a little with some spirit-induced compliance," Adrian admitted, very quietly. "It's an easy way to get what you want out of office ladies. I did it all the time back at St. Vlad's, though back then I didn't bake my own."

I looked around. The hallways were completely empty. I said, very quietly, "I still don't understand how you can charm cakes and cupcakes. You've done it before, but it's still weird. I thought only metal could hold a charge like that."

"Well..." Adrian said, slowly. "It doesn't hold the charge very well. I think it just lays the groundwork. Makes it easier for me to work my compulsion. I don't think _you_ could just hand one of those cupcakes to someone and then boss them around, because you don't have spirit magic. Of course, it'd be different if that person was me." He winked. "You can boss me around if you want. I'm helpless against your powers, Sage."

"Melrose," I said, in a low voice, but I felt a thrill sweep through me.

"Sweetheart," he said, very, very quietly. "Sydney Sweetheart."

"So did you charm me into taking the day off?" I asked, still softly. "Did the smell of the cupcakes induce me to..."

Adrian cut me off. "No. I promise you. I'll never use compulsion on you again. Well, not without your consent."

I wanted to ask him why I would ever consent to being under compulsion, but just then, a door opened and Ms. Terwiliger came out into the hallway. She brightened when she saw us and came over to chat.

"Ms. Melbourne," she said, enthusiastic as ever. "And Mr. Melbourne. Hello, you handsome young man."

"Hello, Ms. Terwiliger," we said in a childlike chorus. We caught each other's eyes and I had to suppress a smile. But Ms. Terwiliger hadn't noticed. She was looking at the container of cupcakes, which was still open.

"Those are some very convincing looking cupcakes," she said. "Did you make them yourself, Mr. Melbourne?"

"Yes, I did, ma'am," Adrian said. "Would you like one?"

"Oh, I think not," she answered, chuckling. "I don't need any help making up my mind today." I was tempted to ask her what that meant, but I was afraid of what her answer would be. "And what are you doing here, young man?" she asked Adrian. "Are you just visiting your, hmmm, sister?" She smiled in that weird way of hers.

"She's helping me set up for my art show," Adrian said. "I need her to help me transport my paintings and set up the refreshments and stuff." Refreshments? This was the first I'd heard about that. I tried not to let the surprise show on my face, however.

"How lovely!" Ms. Terwiliger exclaimed. "I'd love to see your art. Maybe I'll come to the exhibition. Where is it being held?"

Adrian pulled a flier out of his pocket and handed it over. "You're welcome to attend, of course," he said. "After all, you're the one who helped me get into school in the first place."

"I hope you won't forget me when you're a famous artist," Ms. Terwiliger said. "And you will be one, you know." She stated that as a simple fact.

"Thanks," Adrian said, a little bit flustered. "I won't forget you."

"Excellent. You know, I think I will take a cupcake or two. I need to ask the principal to increase the budget to the history department." She winked, took two cupcakes from Adrian's container, and wandered off before we could even react. Adrian and I looked at each other, then we both shook our heads. He started to take my hand, then we remembered that we were still in school and pulled apart a little. Soon we were at the door leading out, and we headed down the paved path to the parking area.

"Where did we park?" Adrian asked.

"Latte is over there," I pointed. "Under the tree, to keep it cool."

"I like that you named your car," Adrian said as we walked. "Did I ever tell you that?"

"No," I said, smiling. "I always name cars."

"Any reason?" he asked.

"I don't really know," I said. "Cars just need names. I mean, if you got a dog or a cat, you'd name it, right? So, it's the same thing." We were down by the cars now, and we had passed by several large palm trees which hid us from the view of the people at the school.

"And you think of your car like a pet?" Adrian asked.

"No," I said. "It's better than a pet. The vast majority of pets don't function very well as transportation, unless you count horses." We had reached Latte, and Adrian rested the Tupperware container on the back bumper for a moment.

"You are so damn cute," he said, and caught my hand in his. He brought it up to his mouth to kiss it. We looked at each other, and he stroked my hand. I could feel the huge grin on my face, stretching out the corners of my mouth almost painfully. But that grin died when I caught a scrap of movement behind one of the big palm trees a few feet away.

It was Bryan. He had been hiding behind the tree for some reason. Had he followed us out? And more importantly, how much of that had he seen? I was about to find out, as he came out from behind the tree and began marching the short distance towards us. I dropped Adrian's hand like it was on fire.

"What are you doing here?" I asked Bryan as he got closer. I tried to keep my voice calm and collected sounding, but the truth was that I was a little frightened. The look on Bryan's face – equal parts triumph and rage – was really a scary thing.

"I was curious about something so I thought I'd just follow you out. And I saw something interesting. Are you two like... in love or something? I thought you were brother and sister."

"We are brother and sister," Adrian said, smoothly. "You didn't see anything weird." To me, he added in an undertone, "Who is this guy?"

"That's Bryan," I said, quietly. Understanding lit Adrian's face.

Meanwhile, Bryan was shaking his head, vehemently. "No, I know what I saw," he said. "I saw you call her cute and then kiss her hand. What brother does that? No wonder you didn't want to give it up for me, Sydney. You're already fucking your brother."

I saw Adrian's face contort with rage. "Look me in the eye, man, and say it to _me_," he said, and Bryan whirled to do just that.

"Happy to do it, _man_," Bryan said. "You may be taller than me, but I think I can take you, you skinny sister-fucking freak." He adopted a fighting stance, fists balled up. But then he made a mistake. He looked Adrian in the eyes.

Adrian said coldly, "You didn't see anything weird."

"I didn't... see... anything..." Bryan said, his words stilted and expressionless.

"You didn't see anything weird at all. Sydney and I were acting like normal siblings."

"Ok," said Bryan. "But I still really want to kick your ass. I hate you." His voice was still robotic, but his words chilled me to the core.

"Why?" Adrian asked. "Tell the truth."

"Because you're cooler than me," Bryan said, in that same almost expressionless voice. "And because you're in the same family as Sydney and Eddie and I hate them. And you're probably easier to beat up than Eddie."

I looked at Adrian's face, saw the anger flit across it. "I just punched you in the stomach really hard," Adrian said, and Bryan sank to his knees in pain.

"And I kicked him in the nuts," I whispered to Adrian.

"And Sydney kicked you in the nuts," Adrian repeated. Immediately Bryan let out a high pitched shriek of pain.

"And a bee stung him," I whispered, and Adrian repeated the command. Bryan screamed again. I smiled. This was fun. I wondered, somewhere in the back of my mind, if I was breaking any commandments, and decided that a psychic attack like this wasn't actually too evil.

"Next time you want to beat someone up, you'll remember this feeling," Adrian continued. "You'll be able to feel it clearly. You won't want to beat anyone up anymore. You'll be a lot nicer, in fact."

"And you won't try to rape girls either," I said. Bryan hadn't exactly tried to rape me, but he hadn't been taking 'no' for an answer. I felt like rape wasn't exactly out of the question for him.

Adrian repeated the command, a new level of coldness to his tone. "In fact," he added, "the idea of rape should give you a case of the limps, you know what I mean, buddy?"

"I understand," Bryan sobbed.

"And in a minute or two, after Sydney and I leave, you're going to get up, remembering the punch and the kick. You won't think that there was anything weird about anything you saw, and you won't talk about what happened to anyone, but you'll keep taking our advice, won't you?"

"Yes, I will, I promise!"

"Good. Nice talking to you," Adrian said, and put his arm around me to sort of steer me away from the figure sobbing on the ground. We took the few steps back to the car and both got inside, Adrian stopping for a moment to grab his cupcakes, which he wedged down into the floor in the back seat.

I automatically began the steps I always take before starting up the car, but stopped suddenly. My hands were shaking. Adrian pulled me close to him and began stroking my hair. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I guess I went a little too far. I just really hate that asshole for what he did to you."

"It's ok," I said. I was remembering Bryan's fist flying through the air, his snarled insults, and my own fear. I was also remembering Keith and what he did to Carly. It was a strange, charged moment, and I was glad Adrian was there to hold me. I was glad that I knew him, glad that there were a few wonderful guys in my life to counter-balance the jerks like Keith and Bryan. When I felt ready to sit up, I did so. Adrian gave me a quick kiss on the lips, and we both smiled. "You didn't go too far," I said. "It was fine. You were amazing, in fact. Thank you for defending us."

"If I hadn't, you would have had to kick his ass for real," Adrian said. "Well, kick his ass _again_, I should say. And as much as I would have enjoyed watching that, it would have been tough to explain to Maryann and Rita. I mean, there's a limit to what cupcakes can do."

"Fair enough," I said. "Well, are you ready to go?"

"Born ready," he said. And we left the parking lot and drove back to his place.

_A/N: Hey guys. This isn't a complete chapter, but it's done, and I figured it was enough to post! :)_


	30. I: The Show Part 2

**Chapter 24: The Show (part 2)**

"Well, are you ready to go?" I asked.

"Born ready," he said. And we left the parking lot and drove back to his place.

Along the way, Adrian told me about a few of the paintings that he was planning on showing, and I realized we'd probably have to make two trips. Sure enough, we were only able to load five paintings into Latte on the first trip, and he had several more lined up to take over. We brought the first set of paintings over to the exhibition hall, where we left them in a back room for later, then made a second trip to Adrian's house. After only the shortest of interludes spent kissing feverishly against a hallway wall, we pulled ourselves together enough to get the other paintings down to the car. Before we left, I noticed a few paintings covered with cloths, but I knew better than to peek at them.

After we dropped off the second set of paintings, Adrian explained that other volunteers from the school were going to be hanging them up and getting them ready for display. "In the meantime," he suggested, "what do you say we go pick up a pizza and eat it back at my place? We have a little time before you have to go get Jill for her feeding."

I liked the idea, and we went and got a pizza. We ate on the couch, in front of an episode of the Simpsons – I had only one slice, and Adrian ate almost his entire half – and then, after Adrian put the rest of my half into the fridge, he gave me a back rub. I was a tiny bit hesitant to accept the offer, considering that the last time he'd given me a back rub it had gone a lot further than just a back rub. But he made no effort to take it further this time, and his strong hands on my back felt amazing.

"It's the least I can do for my gorgeous little art mover," he said in my ear. I was sitting in front of him on the couch, and his legs were wrapped around me. "I wouldn't have been able to do any of this without you, Sage. I really owe you one." He leaned forward a little to lay his cheek against mine, and then I felt him smile. "Actually, I think I owe you at least three or four."

I turned to look at him. "Three or four what?" I asked, then, a split-second later, I felt the blush rise to my cheeks because I had realized what he meant. "Oh, gosh, Adrian..."

He laughed that musical laugh of his. "Exactly," he said, and nibbled at my ear a little. "But we'll talk more about that soon. Maybe tomorrow night?"

"Maybe," I said, and my voice sounded shaky.

"Ok, good," he said, and then, sliding around me, he stood up. "But now, sadly, I think it's time for you to go get our dear little sister and take her over to Clarence's. And then you should have time to go get dolled up before you come pick up your handsome boyfriend for his big show."

"Dolled up?" I asked, surprised. "Why should I dress up?" I stood up from the couch, a little reluctantly. I felt sort of warm all over.

"Because," Adrian said. "I want to see how you clean up. I can't exactly take you to your prom." He paused, as if considering that idea. "Maybe I _should_ take you to a prom sometime," he added. "We could crash a random prom at some other high school." He grinned , showing his fangs a little. They looked cute, I thought.

"And how exactly would we talk them into letting us in when neither of us is enrolled?" I asked, but knew the answer before I had finished asking it. "Never mind," I said. "I know. Forget I asked. Anyway, to the point. I will attempt to find something... more festive. Something appropriate for the occasion."

"Great," he said. "And I'll research local proms in the area," he added, pulling me close to him. He started to dance us around the room a little, and I hooked my arms around his neck. "I want to dance with you," he murmured in my ear. "I want to dance with you, with you in some sexy little dress, while all the other guys in the vicinity stare. And I'll get to know that I'm the one taking you home." He kissed me, and we stopped dancing. His hands began running up and down my back. I found myself untucking his shirt to touch his chest a little. It was amazing; we could go from zero to sixty in about 2.3 seconds these days, like objects in free fall.

I steeled myself and pulled away from him. "I'll come back and get you at 6:30 tonight," I said.

"Can you make it 6:00?" he said, in a low voice. "Then you can come in for half an hour and wrinkle my suit up a little for me."

"I'll have Jill and Eddie with me!" I said, grinning. "And Angeline," I added, trying to keep my tone neutral.

"Fine," he said, resigned. "6:30 then."

"See you then," I said, and leaned in for a goodbye kiss that ended up taking about fifteen minutes. When I finally made my way back downstairs to go back to Amberwood, I had to spend a few minutes fixing my hair in the rear view mirror before I started up the ignition. This was getting absurd.

Jill, Eddie, and Angeline were waiting for me in the parking lot. We went to yet another awkward feeding. Aside from Jill and me, no one in the car was talking to anyone else in the car. So at Clarence's house, I found myself talking to the old Moroi himself, for lack of anyone else to speak to. When Clarence heard about Adrian's exhibition, he surprised all of us by asking to go. Even dreamy Dorothy expressed an interest in attending, which surprised us even more. I told the Moroi and his human companion that they would both be welcome, and I even offered to drop by and give them a ride.

"That's sweet of you, young lady," he said, patting my arm. "But it really won't be necessary. Dorothy and I can take a taxi, can't we, Dorothy?"

"Of course," she sighed, looking at him almost the way a dog looks at its master. It gave me the creeps.

After the feeding, we all went back to Amberwood. Eddie and Angeline disappeared, but Jill marched me to my room and insisted on helping me pick out an outfit. While I sat on my bed, feeling oddly helpless, Jill pulled a skirt out of my closet and held it out to me, her face a question mark. "Why don't you ever wear this?" she asked. "It's cute."

The skirt in question was a pin-striped pencil skirt that had a lace-trimmed kick pleat in the back. I had gotten it on a recent shopping trip with Jill, one I had taken her on mainly to cheer her up about the situation with Eddie. Jill had been more interested in picking stuff out for me than for herself, and she had bullied me into the skirt, with the rationale that it made apparently "made my butt look good." And that was more or less my rationale for not wearing it. I didn't need to walk around with people admiring my behind. However, I didn't say that to Jill now. I just mumbled something about it being too fancy for school. Jill, meanwhile, was searching through all my tops, and wasn't able to find anything to her liking. She told me to come with her to her room, and we went together to the other dorm, me still clutching the skirt. When we got to her room, Jill immediately began rifling through all her own tops. After a few moments, she pulled something out a drawer, a look of satisfaction crossing her face. "This is the one," she said, and held it out to me to put on. "Do you have any strapless bras?"

"Somewhere," I said.

"Well, try the top on now, with your regular bra," she said. "Let's see how it looks with the skirt."

It turned out to be a tube-top. It was strapless, of course, with an elasticized top hem, and it fit very close to the body. Most daring of all was the color. It was a brilliant, shiny gold. It coordinated well with the skirt, and I had to admit that I looked pretty good in it, even with my bra straps just sort of tucked in my shirt for the time being. Jill had me turn around in front of her, then broke out in a huge grin.

"That's perfect," she said. "Adrian will faint."

"You really think so?" I asked. "I think it's too much."

"I think it's just right," Jill said, then instructed me to go back to my room to find my strapless bra and some cute shoes.

I did as I had been told, checking out the effect of the complete outfit in my mirror. I looked a little like a different person. But then I took the outfit off again to take a quick shower and wash my hair. After that, I got dressed, put on a little makeup, and used a little of my favorite perfume, Emerald Dream. I threw on a light jacket to cover myself up a little, and then went over to Jill's, my hair still wet.

When she answered the door and saw me with my wet hair, she laughed and invited me in. Without asking, she used her magic to remove all the water from my hair as she had done the night I had reconciled with Adrian. That was what I had been hoping she would do. My hair had those same light waves as it had had before, and it looked perfect.

I sat down and chatted with Jill while she spent a while on her makeup. She really made it an art, and I was sort of fascinated by the many steps involved. In truth, I had to admit that all this girly dressing up was sort of fun, though I drew the line when Jill wanted to paint my fingernails gold. Of course, Jill looked beautiful, as usual. She had straightened her hair and wore a very simple, pale blue silk dress. She looked like a fairy ice princess.

A few minutes before we were supposed to leave, Angeline showed up. She changed into a red mini-dress right in front of us, without even waiting for us to turn our backs to her. She put on a quick layer of makeup and then looked at us contemptuously. "Well?" she said. "Let's not be late."

We walked in silence down to Latte, where Eddie was waiting for us. He was in a suit and tie, and he looked confident and handsome, more so than I would have guessed he would have in an outfit like that. "You look very nice, Eddie," I said. I saw Jill stare at him for a moment, then look away quickly. Even Angeline reacted, and she was far from Eddie's biggest fan. I saw her actually lick her lips, like a hungry wolf.

"You look great, yourself," Eddie said to me, but when his eyes reached Jill, he couldn't look away. He didn't say a word to her, however. It was enough to make you want to tear out your hair. I sighed and put the radio on for the ride over to Adrian's. No one even had the energy to complain about my choice of music – classical.

When we got there, Adrian was in the parking lot waiting for us, barely visible over the stack of Tupperware containers in his arms. He knocked on the window of the passenger side, and Eddie got out to relinquish his seat to the Moroi. "I'm taller than you, man," Adrian said, without much of a note of apology to his voice. Eddie sighed, muttered something that sounded like, "They come first," and got in the back seat. Angeline should have sat in the middle, since she was the smallest, but she stayed on her side, and Jill had to take the middle position.

I got out of the car to help Adrian put the Tupperware in the trunk, and when we were done situating the containers, Adrian looked me over thoughtfully. "Do I look ok?" I asked, hating how insecure I sounded. He hadn't even kissed me hello.

"You look so good I'm afraid to touch you," Adrian said, his voice low. "I'd give Jill and Eddie quite a show if I lost control, and I'm pretty damn sure I'd lose control if I got close enough to kiss you on the cheek." He shook his head, and I squashed the huge smile that threatened to take over my face. "I wish people didn't think you were my sister," Adrian added. "Then at least I'd be allowed to kiss you a little at an event like this. Well, anyway, how do_ I_ look?"

As usual, he looked... gorgeous. He was wearing one of his designer suits, and though it must have been more than a year old, it still looked great. The suit was charcoal gray, and he was wearing it with a lighter gray shirt and one of his gorgeous green ties, which was perfectly centered. I had a sudden image of that tie being torn off and thrown on the floor of his bedroom, and I shook my head to bring myself back to reality. "I like the suit," I said, my voice sounding strange in my ears. "But your tie is crooked." I reached over and disarranged the tie so that it lay at about a 30 degree angle off center.

"Is it?" Adrian asked, blandly.

"Yes," I said. Then I reached over and straightened it again, using the opportunity to touch Adrian a bit more than was strictly necessary. "That's better," I said.

"I think your skirt is crooked," Adrian said, softly. "I could straighten it for you."

"I'll fix it later," I said, my voice cracking a little. I was suddenly aware of our "family" watching us from the car. "Come on. We have to go." I went around to my side and got in, and Adrian got into the passenger seat.

As we buckled our seat belts, I asked Adrian about what was in the Tupperware containers.

"Oh, it's a few different cakes," Adrian explained. "Chocolate, lemon, carrot, and my own trademark 'Chocolate L'Orange.'"

"Is it, um, safe to eat?" Jill asked, from the backseat.

"Why wouldn't it be?" Adrian asked, innocently.

"She means," I said, "did you cast some sort of spell on it that would make us cluck like chickens or something?"

Adrian laughed. "It's pretty safe," he said. "Just maybe don't do any shopping for a few hours after you eat any. You might buy more than you had intended." When I sighed out loud, he laughed. "Come on," he said. "The cake just encourages people who eat it to feel comfortable buying things. That's all." He grinned. "You gotta use whatever skills your mama gave you, is my attitude."

Then he turned around in his seat and greeted everyone and thanked them for coming. I felt the nervous energy coming from him, despite his happy expression. As we drove over to the exhibition hall, he talked animatedly about the show and how many people were expected to attend.

The way Adrian had talked I had thought that there would be several artists in the show – that Adrian would be one of just many featured artists. However, it turned out Adrian was featured much more prominently than any other artist. I found myself impressed at how far Adrian had come in such a short time. His talent was getting noticed.

Eddie had helped Adrian carry in the cake, and the four of us – Angeline had disappeared immediately – helped set it up. We also pulled out a few bottles of soft drinks and some wine, as well as some chips and pretzels, which apparently had been provided by the school's art department. Pretty soon, Adrian was pulled into conversation with various guests. Beautiful Jill was the object of a fair bit of attention, and to my surprise, several people – well, men, to be specific – wanted to talk to me. I usually dressed in such a way that I'd blend in, and it was weird for me to be noticed.

Once, when one of the other artists in the show had been talking to me for about ten minutes, Adrian came over and put his arm around my shoulder. "Hi, Martin. I see you met my little sister, Sydney," Adrian said. "She's not allowed to date, you know."

I was confused. Why would Adrian feel the need to announce this? "I think I am, if I want to," I said. "I just usually don't want to." I looked at Adrian, trying to get a feeling for what was going on here.

"Well, at the very least, you're not allowed to date anyone as old as Martin, here," Adrian said, his arm still around my shoulder. All of a sudden, I got it. He was jealous! Adrian Ivashkov, handsome ladies' man, was jealous! I smiled and changed the subject. After another minute or so, Martin left, obviously a little intimidated by Adrian's "protective" routine.

"Were you jealous?" I asked Adrian.

"Maybe a little," he admitted.

"Good," I said. I wanted to kiss him, but I knew I couldn't right now. We walked away from each other. It felt like when you walk away from a warm radiator, and feel the warmth growing distant and small.

The night went along pretty well. People were gobbling up the cake, and we saw red "sold" dots appearing on his paintings. Clarence showed up after a while, wearing an old corduroy suit and accompanied by Dorothy, who wore an old fashioned high-necked dress and a dazed expression. They were slightly out of place at the art show, and people stared at them, but they didn't seem to notice. To my surprise, Clarence actually bought a painting, one of the "door" paintings. It would be hanging in that dusty old living room of his for years to come.

After about an hour, I looked over and saw Adrian in a conversation with an attractive woman who I guessed to be somewhere in her late 30s or early 40s. She had perfectly styled hair, fashionable clothes, and the kind of face that had obviously seen the benefit of "helpful" knives and needles. I saw her stroke Adrian on the arm, suggestively, and I saw Adrian flinch very, very slightly from her touch. I looked at his face and saw that his smile was far from genuine. I couldn't see auras, but sometimes you don't need to see auras. I began walking over in what I hoped looked like a normal pace.

"Hi, big brother," I said, pleasantly. "Who is your new friend?"

The woman's eyes passed over me with little interest. "You're his sister?" she asked. "How nice. I'm Regina Palmieri." She said the name as if I should recognize it, and the truth was that I did. She was the wife of a well known local philanthropist, and she had served as a patroness to many Palm Springs and Los Angeles based artists who were just starting out. She also had a reputation for having a more... personal relationship with many of her artists. The hand she was letting linger on Adrian's arm spoke volumes about her plans for him.

"This is Sydney Melrose," Adrian said, pulling his arm away from Regina to gesture to me. "She's the genius of the family. I wouldn't be anywhere today without her support."

"Isn't that lovely," Regina said, and she and I shook hands. Once our contact was broken, she immediately resumed stroking Adrian's arm. "I was just telling your handsome brother here that I'd be interested in arranging a more formal gallery presentation for him," she said, speaking more to Adrian than to me. "If, of course, we could come to a suitable arrangement."

"You're too kind," said Adrian. "It sounds like an amazing opportunity." He smiled at Regina warmly, and my heart caught in my throat. "But I'm not sure what kind of arrangement you'd find suitable, exactly."

"Oh," she purred, still more or less ignoring me. "We can discuss it. Maybe over champagne, at my place tomorrow night?"

I felt my hands beginning to sweat. Regina Palmieri had some serious power in the art world. An "arrangement" with her could catapult Adrian to superstardom overnight. Adrian knew it too, I was sure of it. He may not have studied art history as seriously as I have, but he had to be reasonably well acquainted with the movers and shakers of Palm Springs society, and while he was taking painting classes at school, he must have heard her name several times.

Here's a chance for Adrian to get rich again, I realized. This was his chance to get back the life he had lost when his father had cut him off. He'd have to sleep with this woman, but that probably wouldn't be such a hardship. She was attractive enough, despite being about twice Adrian's age. My sweaty hands formed into fists. What would Adrian choose? His new life with me, or his old life with money?

"I have plans for tomorrow night," Adrian said, smoothly. "But I'll give you the email address of my professor, and maybe you two can discuss your ideas for a showing of my art. He knows a lot more than I do." I felt all my muscles relax. I smoothed out my hands.

"Oh," Regina said, a little hurt sounding. Her lower lip turned down in a pout. "I'd hoped that we could get to know each other. Maybe become good friends."

"That'd be nice," Adrian said. "Maybe you, me, my professor, and my sister can all get together sometime. After all" – and Adrian deftly maneuvered out of Regina's grasp and then pulled me to him in a fairly chaste embrace – "Sydney here is the wind beneath my wings. Aren't you, little sis?" He kissed me on the forehead. I began listing prime numbers in my head to keep from blushing. _Two_, I thought to myself. _Three, five, seven, eleven, thirteen..._

"I'm sure your professor is very busy," Regina said. "And your sister must be busy with schoolwork. What grade are you in, hon?"

"I'm a senior," I said. Adrian's arm was still around me, and though I thought we could almost certainly pass as siblings from our posture, I was still unnerved by him. He smelled so good. _Thirty-one, thirty-seven, thirty-nine, forty-one... _

"Well, we'll have to wait until our schedules come together then," Adrian said, with a gentle air of finality. Maybe because our bodies were touching lightly along our sides, I could feel the power radiate from him as he sent a wave of compulsion at Regina. "I'm sure you'll make your decision on whether or not to support me based solely on my art, not any other reason."

"Of course," Regina said, blankly.

"Please don't take any offense," he added.

"Oh, I wouldn't," she said.

"Good. I really should see to my other guests now, Ms. Palmieri. Thank you so much for your offer. Take care."

"Bye," she replied, still a little hazy sounding, as Adrian and I walked away.

I felt so proud, so happy. Adrian was going to do this the right way, even if it meant short-circuiting his own success. And of course, I was happy that he wasn't going to start up any kind of intense flirtation with another woman. Essentially, Adrian had chose me over money. That was an amazing thing, I realized.

"Thanks so much for coming over," Adrian said to me after the woman was out of earshot. "I was having a bit of trouble with her. I didn't want to have to use too much compulsion to get out of that, but in the end it just seemed like the easiest way."

"Have you been using it much lately?" I asked. "I mean, aside from charming the office ladies, what else have you been doing, spirit-wise?"

"Very little," Adrian replied. "But I want to keep it ready. In case I need it." He gave me a look that I had trouble reading, but there was an intensity to his eyes that made me wish we were alone. Alone, and in a dark, warm, soft place – like a bed, for example. But I couldn't figure out what any of that had to do with using spirit. I decided to not think about it too much, especially since I had to keep my wits about me with all the other guests around. "By the way," Adrian added. "Were you jealous?"

"Maybe a little bit," I answered.

"Good," he said, winked at me, and walked away to chat with other guests. I turned around, smiling, to find myself face to face with Ms. Terwiliger.

"Oh, hello, ma'am," I said. "Are you enjoying the show?"

Ms. Terwiliger looked over at Adrian, who seemed perfectly at ease among the wealthy-looking people he was talking to. "Yes," she answered. "I'm enjoying it very much. I've also enjoyed the paintings."

I peered at her. Was she making a joke? She regarded me steadily, as if unaware of the potentially humorous meaning of her words. "I'm glad," was all I could think of to say. Ms. Terwiliger was an unnerving person to be around, even after all the time we'd had to spend together due to the special projects she had me do for her.

"I really like his 'Door' series," she went on. "I particularly like the one showing a young blonde woman walking through a door in a tree. Have you seen that one?"

I knew the one she meant. It was one of his larger paintings, entitled "Her Forest." It showed a girl walking through a door in a wall and emerging through a tree in a forest. The perspective was dream-like, reminiscent perhaps of M.C. Escher or Salvador Dali, so the girl's back was visible as she went through the door, and her side was visible as she emerged in the forest. I was pretty sure I knew who the girl was, and from the look on Ms. Terwiliger's face, she did as well. "Yes," I said, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. "I saw that one. I like it a lot, actually. It's one of my favorites."

"Do you do that often?" Ms. Terwiliger asked, innocently. "Go through doors in one place, and come out somewhere else entirely?"

I stared at her. "You're kidding, of course," I replied, after a moment.

"Oh, no," Ms. Terwiliger said. "I mean, it isn't normal behavior for most people, but you're not most people, after all."

"Well, thanks for um, the vote of confidence, I guess," I said. "But that kind of thing only happens to me in dreams."

"And then you wake up in the same place you were before you went to sleep?" Ms. Terwiliger said. "Do you stay in your bed the whole time?"

"To my knowledge," I said, feeling uncomfortable. "Really, Ms. Terwiliger, I am just a normal person. I occasionally have cool dreams, but that's it."

"Really?" she said. "That's too bad."

"Do people..." I said, slowly, and wasn't sure exactly how to continue. "Um, is it possible..." I tried again, and felt the words dry up in my throat.

"Can people travel in dreams?" Ms. Terwiliger anticipated my question.

"Yes, I guess that's what I'm asking," I said, not sure if I was more grateful that she had understood, or uncomfortable to be talking about this. You'd think I would be more comfortable with the topic by now, but the truth was, it still made me a little edgy to think about actually using magic.

"Well, extremely powerful individuals can make use of a technique called astral projection," Ms. Terwilger. "They project, or send, a sort of spirit-body out of themselves, which can then travel independent of the physical body. I've never really gotten the knack, myself," she concluded, sounding slightly wistful. "I'll have to talk to your friend Adrian to ask him how he does it."

I coughed. "I'm sure he doesn't know how to do that, either," I said. I didn't bother to correct her and say that Adrian was my brother. She knew better than that.

"If you say so," Ms. Terwiliger replied, smiling.

"Can I ask one more question about astral projection, ma'am?" I asked. She nodded. "Imagine someone went somewhere, using astral projection," I began.

"Not you, of course," Ms. Terwiliger interjected, her eyes twinkling.

"No, not me," I said, trying to sound confident yet bland. "I'm just trying to understand."

"Naturally."

"So imagine someone astral projected to say... a... beach. And then came back to his or her physical body with sand between his or her toes. Is something like that possible?"

"Oooh," Ms. Terwiliger said, delighted. "That's something more than astral projection. That's... more of a somatic projection. It means that at some level, the physical body is staying closely yoked to the spirit as it travels. It's the kind of thing only an extremely powerful individual can do." She cocked her head to the side and stared at me. "A person who could do that, could, theoretically, teleport from place to place."

"I find that difficult to believe," I said.

"Well, it makes a bit more sense than say, creating fire from nothing." Ms. Terwiliger smiled at me indulgently, as if I were a small child. "Creating fire from nothing breaks all the known laws of physics, and probably a few unknown laws as well."

"And teleporting doesn't?" I answered, ignoring her mention of fire. The fact that she had tricked me into creating a magical fire was still a sore spot for me, despite the fact that it had probably saved my life, and Adrian's to boot. "People – and all things, actually – travel from place to place in a continuous line only. That's a pretty basic fact." _Except for certain pine needles, key-chains, bottles of wine, and shirts,_ the Traitor added, but I ignored her.

"That's true, I suppose," my teacher replied. "But that's just one point of view. Mostly, we view travel as if we were balls rolling across a plane. We're here, then a little to the right, then a little further to the right..." She gestured with her hands. "And that's how we move from place to place. But balls can also move by bouncing. First here, then _there_, then _there_." She gestured with her hand, as if her hand itself was a bouncy ball, bouncing off an invisible floor.

"But even then," I said, "the ball moves in a continuous fashion. We can watch it move from place to place in an arch-shaped path. It never disappears and then reappears in another location."

"But it would," she said, "if you were lying on the ground, looking straight ahead of you. From your perspective, it would seem like the ball is there, then somewhere else, then somewhere else. It's only because you and I can see in three dimensions that we understand that the ball goes somewhere else while it moves."

"Let's see if I understand you. I think you're saying that, to someone who only understood two dimensions – someone who only saw a flat world – being able to move in a third dimension would seem like magic."

"Exactly!" Ms. Terwiliger's eyes lit up at the mention of the "m" word. "It would seem just like magic!"

"But it wouldn't be," I said. My head was starting to spin a little.

"True," she said. "It wouldn't be magic, of course. But it would _seem_ like it. So, consider: if you and I were used to only three dimensions, how would it seem to us to see someone moving through the fourth dimension? Or how would it feel to use it ourselves, to bounce from place to place?" I gaped at her and said nothing. After a moment she went on. "There are those who believe that, to a well-organized mind, such travel would be just a matter of geometry and physics. Simply locate the fourth dimension and move through that."

"The fourth dimension?" I said, feeling slightly irritated. "I don't mean to sound disrespectful, ma'am, but you're starting to sound like the opening narration of _The Twilight Zone_."

"Rod Sterling," Ms. Terwiliger said, fondly. Rod Sterling, I knew, had been the driving force behind the spooky old TV series, and was usually seen at the beginning of each episode. "Oh, I miss him," Ms. Terwiliger went on. "He was a great magician, a great writer, and an even better lover." I let out a loud, uncomfortable cough, but she continued speaking, apparently unaware of my discomfort. "He wrote often from personal experience, you know."

"I um, didn't know that," I said. I didn't want to hear about my teacher's romance with a long-dead celebrity. "Listen, I think I really should check on the refreshments table."

"Should you?" Ms. Terwiliger said, in that weird way of hers. "Ok, that's fine. We all have jobs to do. Will I see you in class tomorrow?" Before I could answer, she said, "Probably not, I think. No, definitely not. Actually," and she cocked her head to the side again, as if in deep thought, "I'm getting the feeling that I may not see you again for quite some time."

"I'll be in class tomorrow," I said. "Or at the very least, on Monday."

"I really hope so," she said, and put a hand on my shoulder. "And either way, please bear this in mind: You're a very strong and talented young woman. I've enjoyed having you in my class."

"Thank you," I said, flattered but a little weirded out. What did she mean, she wouldn't see me for a while? Part of me wanted to ask, but I felt like it would probably be pointless.

"And if you know someone who can bring sand back from a dream of a beach, maybe your friend should face the truth about her abilities. Right now, she's like Dumbo, who thinks he can only fly when he holds the magic feather. Dumbo could always fly. He was just scared."

"I've seen the film," I said. "But... what is the magic feather in this analogy?"

But Ms. Terwiliger was already walking away. And with nothing else to do, I thought it would be a good idea to actually go check on the refreshments.

When I got over to the table, I saw that it was starting to look a little bare, so I decided to head back to the back room and get some more stuff.

However, when I walked into the room, I realized almost immediately that I wasn't alone in there. "Oh, shoot," I thought, and ducked down as fast as I could. This wasn't going to be fun.

_A/N: I've been in a lot of airports and train stations lately, with nothing much to do but write. So I hope to have a few more updates up soon. _


	31. I: Choices

**Chapter 25: Choices **

I ducked down quickly. The room was sort of weirdly L-shaped, and I was in the corner. There were two people at the far end of the room, having what sounded like an intense conversation. There was a tall box near me and I examined it quickly, wondering if I could use a nearby pallet to sort of climb inside, but it was sealed at the top. Still, it served as a good cover for me so I could listen unobserved.

I felt kind of bad, settling in to eavesdrop on two people I knew. But those two people were Adrian and Angeline, and I couldn't help myself.

_Oh sure, who needs common courtesy when your boyfriend is talking to another girl who likes him?_ muttered the Traitor, and I shushed her.

"I know, I know," Angeline was saying. "I get it. I get how it is. But you know, in _my_ culture, it's kind of normal for a guy to have... choices. You know? Like, options. A human option, and a dhampir one, and a Moroi one. I get it that Sydney is your _human_. But I could be your dhampir option, if you wanted one."

"Angeline," Adrian said, very gently. "I think you are a beautiful girl. I really do. And I appreciate the offer. I know that you must really like me to offer... an arrangement like that. But that's not the way I do things. At least, not these days. I'm with Sydney, and that means that I'm not really looking for... options."

"You don't need options?" Angeline said, a strange note to her voice. "Meanwhile, I'm almost _out_ of them. I don't belong here." I realized that she had started to cry, and I felt terrible all of a sudden. She must be so homesick.

"Of course you belong," Adrian said. "You're our friend, our 'cousin.' We all would like to get along better with you. Maybe today can be a new start." I couldn't see Angeline's face, but I heard her disbelieving snort and could imagine her eyes rolling. "I mean it," Adrian went on, again in that gentle tone. It reminded me somehow of someone dealing with a frightened but dangerous animal – something like a wounded wolf. "Just go to them and apologize. They'll be happy to..." His voice trailed off, and I could understand why: Angeline had no doubt made a rude face at the mention of the word "apologize." There was probably a hand gesture to go with it, too.

Adrian tried to recover. "Listen, little Angel." The bravado in his voice was cheering, but I was momentarily distracted by his nickname for her. I had never heard him call her that before, and wondered if he had just made it up or if he had always called her that. I also tried to squash the jealousy that bubbled up inside of me like a geyser. "You _do_ owe them an apology, so don't act like that. You have been tremendously difficult to deal with, and I think you know that, seeing as you have done your level best to _be_ that difficult. In fact, my dear, I ought to congratulate you on a job well done, or even thank you. I've been playing more of the good-guy role lately since I lost my heart to that sexy bookworm of mine, and it's a good thing that you're picking up my slack." I wrinkled my nose. _Sexy bookworm?_ I didn't know how I felt about that line. The "sexy" part was ok, I thought. Adrian was still talking, and I kept listening. "So just woman up like I know you can, and admit that you have been a royal pain in the ass-"

"I'm not _royal_," Angeline said, disgust dripping from the word. "I wouldn't want to be royal either, for the record, mister."

"Not really relevant," Adrian said, slightly annoyed too now. "The issue is the _pain in the ass_ part, and I see you're not even debating that. Which is great. Admitting it is the first step to getting better. So why don't you and I just go out and find Jailbait or Castille and..."

"I don't feel like talking to them," Angeline said, sounding again as if her throat were closed with tears. "I only want to talk to you. You're the only one who made me think that maybe... maybe I could find a reason to be here. I mean, other than..." She paused, then said, in an oddly clipped tone, "other than the job I was given."

"The job you were given was very important," Adrian said.

"You have no idea," Angeline said. "Anyway, you're the only one I like here, and you don't much like me." I started to get uncomfortable, crouching where I was, but knew I couldn't move.

"Of course I like you," Adrian said. "I told you that time... um... you know. In my room. I like you fine, little Angel, even if you are more of a devil."

"But as _just friends_," Angeline drawled, her voice making a mockery of the phrase.

"Yes," Adrian answered, his voice a little cold. "Stop that." Stop _what,_ I wondered. There was the slight sound of a scuffle, and then the sound of a slap floated past the boxes to me. "You know," Adrian said, a few moments later, "I think it's more traditional for the molestee to slap the molester than the other way around." His voice held a note of humor to it, and it seemed at odds with the other sound in the room, which was that of a girl crying softly. I was pretty sure I knew what had happened. Angeline had reached for Adrian in some way – and from the sound of it, it wasn't exactly a G-rated caress – and Adrian had pushed her away. Then she had slapped him. And now, that wonderful guy of mine was trying to cheer her up. "Come on," I heard him say softly. "We can start over any time you want. You don't even have to apologize or anything to me. It's all good."

"No," she said, through sobs. "Nothing is good. You have no idea how bad it is. You have no idea."

"I do," Adrian said. "I mean, I think I do. I had my heart broken a few months ago. And you know what, it really gets better. I realized that she wasn't the right girl for me, and if she walked in here right now asking for me back, and I'd tell her to get bent, because I've found the girl of my dreams." I smiled at that, but was distracted away from my flattery quickly because there was a strange note now to Angeline's sobs. She was sort of laughing now, too.

"You," she said, through the weird mixture of laughter and tears. "You are so full of yourself. And so full of _bu-ull-shi-it_." With her thick accent, the word was a full four syllables long. "You think I'm crying because of a broken heart? Gawd. I wish. I wish that were the worst thing I had to worry about right now."

"What else is wrong?" Adrian asked. "Can I help with anything?"

"No," Angeline said. "You made your choice. And I'm making mine. I'll have to figure this out on my own."

"Well, that sounds good," Adrian said, a little uncertain sounding. I felt uncertain, too. What did Angeline need to figure out? What were her other problems?

"No," Angeline said again. "It's not good at all. But it is what it is. I've just got to remember who I am and where I come from. And right now I'm going to take me a taxi back to school so I can get some work done. I've had enough culture for one night."

I realized with a start that she was coming this way. I wished that the box behind me were open on the top so I could get inside, and then I looked at it more closely. It _was_ open on the top. How had I not noticed that before? I stepped neatly inside, noticing a length of cloth lining the bottom, then ducked down as I heard her footsteps pass me. I just hoped that my scent wouldn't give me away, then reasoned that the many strange aromas in the room would cover it up.

A few moments later, I stood up and stepped out of the box. I peered around the corner and saw Adrian sitting on a box, looking down at the ground. "Hi," I said.

"Hi," he said, looking up. He smiled weakly. "How much of that did you hear?"

"A bit," I said, approaching him.

"I seem to be turning women down right and left tonight," Adrian said.

"As long as you don't turn me down," I said, and leaned down to kiss him quickly. He was still seated, but was so much taller that it wasn't too hard to reach him. When I pulled away, he wrapped his arms around me and buried his face against my chest. "You were great with her, you know," I told him, stroking his hair.

"Thanks," he said, glumly. His voice was muffled. "I don't feel great. I don't know how to help her." He sighed, then leaned away from me so he could look at me. "She's not such a bad kid, you know?" he said. "She's just... unhappy."

"A lot of people are unhappy," I said. "I think I was unhappy for about 18 years. I wasn't a complete pain in the neck."

"You kind of were, actually," he said, grinning, "but that's what I liked about you." He stood up and kissed me on the cheek. "I kind of liked it how you'd boss me around and yell at me."

I bit my lip to keep from smiling too much. "Well, then," I said, adopting a brusque tone. "I think it's time for you to go out there and schmooze like your life depends on it."

He offered me a salute. "It's the job I was born to do," he said, confidently. "But first, I'm going to be insubordinate for a second." He pulled me into a quick, fierce kiss that left me breathless, then leaned back, grinning at me. I was still trying to breathe normally as he grabbed a few bottles of cola – I guess he had come in here to replenish the refreshment table, same as me – and began walking toward the door. He winked at me and then looked down at the box I had been crouching in. His face registered a surprised bordering on shock. "Um, Sage?" he said, very slowly. "What did you do to this box?"

"What do you mean?"

"This box was all closed up before. Now it's open on the top. Did you do that?" He put the bottles of soda down on the floor, and peered into the box.

"I didn't do anything. It was like that. Good thing, too, or I don't know where I would have hidden."

"I don't mean to be argumentative," Adrian said, "but I'm fairly certain it was closed up. See, I put my jacket down on this box when I came in. And now, um, see?" He pointed into the box, and I looked down. The cloth I had noticed at the bottom of the box was Adrian's suit jacket. I stared, uncomprehending.

"How is that possible?" I asked, and the words came out in a hoarse whisper.

Adrian pulled me close to him. "Is there a chance that maybe you... wanted this box to be open? So that you could hide in it?" I didn't respond, so he went on. "And then maybe the box opened up for you, and my jacket fell down into the bottom of the box since the top was gone."

"I don't want to talk about it," I said in a flat tone, my voice muffled against his chest. "Please. Don't make me talk about it."

Adrian squeezed me tightly. "I guess we've had enough serious talks," he said. "This one can wait."

He leaned back and brushed a hair from my face, then kissed me gently on the lips. I smiled, then gestured with my head to the door and the waiting crowd. "Ok, general," he said, smiling too. "If you're sure you're ok?"

"I'm ok," I said. "Really! This is no big deal."

"Ok," he said. He kissed me again quickly, grabbed the bottles of cola, and walked out of the store room.

As I watched him walk away, I felt a wave of pride and affection roll over me. He had been so kind to Angeline, and so loyal to me. He had chosen me over money and fame as well as easy sex. His show was going so well tonight, and he was keeping his integrity intact. And to top that off, he was apparently really and actually over Rose. He was mine, I realized.

"My Adrian," I whispered out loud. That's what I'd always wanted to call him. He had a million nicknames for me, and maybe I had finally found one for him. Not much of one, but the only one I needed.

I sat down absent-mindedly on the box – which was closed again now, thank goodness – and ran my fingers through my hair. A plan was forming in my mind. I got out my cell phone and dialed a number from memory. I talked to the woman on the other end of the line for only a few moments, then hung up, feeling exhilarated at the choice I had made. I grabbed a few bottles of lemon-lime soft drink and one bottle of wine, then walked back out into the exhibition, ready to play supportive sister to a brilliant, handsome, sexy, and thankfully not-really-related-to-me, "brother."

The rest of the show went well. Angeline had been good to her word, and had left in a huff and a taxi. With her gone, the atmosphere amongst my own little group seemed to clear a little. I actually saw Jill and Eddie talking to each other a little, which made me feel miles better. The other people at the show seemed to be having fun, as well. They continued to schmooze and talk and ooh and aah over the paintings. By the end of the night, all of the cake had been eaten – and several people had asked Adrian for the recipe to the Chocolate L'Orange cake, a recipe which he refused to divulge – and many of the paintings had been sold.

Finally, it was time to go. We said goodbye to the acquaintances we had made – I saw Dave begin to approach me for a moment before a quelling look from Adrian shut him down – and then we left the exhibition hall.

Once we were all in the car, I explained to Eddie and Jill that I'd be dropping them off first because I had to help Adrian with cleaning up after the exhibit. That wasn't true in the slightest, of course, and I apologized to God in advance for the infraction. I felt like He understood.

"Won't you be late for curfew?" Eddie asked.

"I got special permission to stay out tonight," I replied. _That_, at least, was true. It was easy to do, when the office ladies of your school have been charmed to agree to everything you ask for.

"All night?" Jill squeaked.

"Well, I guess if I have to," I said, in a brusque tone.

I saw Jill roll her eyes, smiling. Eddie stared at me in the rear view mirror for a second before he looked away. And in the passenger seat next to me, Adrian rested his hand on mine as I held the clutch. When we reached a traffic light a moment later, I looked over at him. He gave me a questioning look, a slight smile on his face. I squeezed his hand and smiled, and his eyes widened a little before the light turned green in front of us.

Jill began to chatter nervously, and kept up a running babble for the rest of the ride. "That was so cool, Adrian, how those people all bought your paintings, and I don't think it was just the cake, I mean some people didn't even eat the cake and they still bought paintings, I was watching, and also I heard one woman saying she wanted you to be her own private baker, of course, I think she wanted you to like, live at her house and bake for her in a, um, little outfit..." She went on and on. In the rear view mirror, I caught Eddie's eye again, and this time we smiled.

I dropped Eddie and Jill off at Amberwood and bid them goodnight. Jill surprised me with a hug, and Eddie gave me a searching look before he left. I got back in the car, and turned to Adrian, saying, "I'm so proud of you, Adrian. The show was such a hit. I knew you could do it."

"Thanks," he said. "I really couldn't have done it without you." I flushed with pleasure. He paused. "Um, so, we don't really have to clean up at the exhibition hall. You knew that, right?"

"Right," I said.

"So, are you in any hurry right now? You have nowhere to be in particular."

"No hurry," I said. _Bull, _said the Traitor._ You are in a hurry. You're in a hurry to grab Adrian and pull off that tie of his and begin unbuttoning every button you can reach. _I knew she was right, but externally, I tried to look calm.

"Well, then, do you maybe want to come up to my place for a bit? I have a painting I want to show you."

"One of the ones under a dropcloth?" I asked. I had been curious about those, though I knew it was rude to pry. Maybe he'd show me that weird landscape I had seen the day I had ended up in his dream.

"Yes," he answered. "There's one I've really been wanting to show you. I think now would be a good time."

"Well, I'd love to," I said, and smiled at him as I started up the car. We drove over to his place in comfortable silence, his hand resting on my hand on the clutch again.

When we got to his place, we held hands as we went up the two flights of stairs to his place. He let go of my hand only long enough to fish his keys out of his pocket, but then took it again as he drew us both into his apartment. We were still quiet as he turned on the lights, and I almost felt like I should whisper when I asked him where the painting was.

"It's right here," he said, gesturing to a big painting under a cloth sort of in the middle of his living room. There was a smaller painting, also under a cloth, in the corner, which I realized was the one I had caught a glimpse of in the dream. But now I was going to see this big one, and I tried to focus on the here and now.

Adrian took the cloth off the big painting, then stood back so I could look at it.

It was made to resemble an ancient triptych – a three-paneled painting that was commonly used in Byzantine art. All three panels were paintings of me, painted to be slightly reminiscent of stained glass. The painting on the left showed me, in our woods, wearing Adrian's t-shirt. The light shone on my face, and joy filled my features. The painting on the far right showed me in Venice. I was wearing the masquerade gown, and walking down a wooden hallway, looking over my shoulder coyly as if suggesting that someone follow me. In the center picture, which was the largest, I was in the courtyard of the cloisters in Porto. I was naked except for the climbing vines which covered my body, and I was standing simply, my face serene, my aura enormous and golden.

Looking at the painting, I was speechless.

"It's how I see you," Adrian said softly, putting his arms around me from behind. "It's some of the many ways I see you. Adorable, sexy, and brilliant."

"You've made me so..." I trailed off. In the paintings, I was so beautiful, so thin. I wondered if he really thought I was that thin, or if he was just being nice. He seemed so earnest though, so completely open to me. He wouldn't lie to me, would he? "You've made me a saint," I murmured.

"You've saved me so many times," Adrian said. "I couldn't help it. It just came out like this."

"It's beautiful," I said in a hushed tone.

"_You're_ beautiful," he whispered back. I turned around to look at him. I knew what he was going to say a moment before he said it, and then the words were coming out of his mouth, and I couldn't stop him, didn't want to stop him, really. "I love you," he said, and I felt like time itself had come to a halt.

"My Adrian," I sighed, and kissed him. I just kissed him and kissed him.

There were no choices left to consider. They had all been made already. They had been made when Adrian had turned down money and fame for me. They had been made when Adrian had said that Rose was in the past. They had been made weeks ago in Porto, when he had let me see how much I meant to him. They had been made months ago, at the moment of our first kiss, our first fight, our first reconciliation in the forest.

They had been made the minute I saw Adrian on that security camera footage. The minute I first saw my Adrian.

My Adrian, my Adrian, _my Adrian_.


	32. I: My Adrian

_A/N: Ok. If you're easily offended, then... you might want to skip to the end of this chapter. Otherwise, this might be just what you have been waiting for. Enjoy, and don't blame me if you don't like it. This story is rated M, you know. _

**Chapter 26: My Adrian**

"I love you," Adrian had said. Hearing it, really hearing the words "I love you," was something brand new to me. True, he had come close to saying it before. And looking at the painting had left very little room for doubt, as every brush struck had spoke volumes about his feelings for me. But still. No one had ever said those three words to me except family, and even _they_ said it rarely. No one had ever _chosen_ to love me. Adrian had chosen me. And for all the problems that caused for us, I was so grateful for that.

"My Adrian," I sighed again, and kissed him as if I'd never stop. I wanted to say that I loved him too. I knew it was the custom, that he'd probably be left hurting if I didn't say it back. I was pretty sure that I did love him, too. But when I tried to say it, the words got stuck in my throat. So I just kissed him with all the intensity I was feeling, murmuring his name.

"You can't say it yet, can you?" he asked me when we broke apart. He ran his fingers along the planes of my face, his green eyes searching my brown ones. I shook my head. "Why not?"

"I don't know," I said, miserably.

"Well, it's ok," he said, gently. "It really is. I said it because I couldn't keep it in for one more second, not because I wanted to guilt you into saying it back. I guess you'll say it when you're ready." He smiled. "I think I know how you're feeling. And I like it when you call me 'My Adrian.'"

"I like calling you that," I said, feeling like that was a lame reply. I pulled him back into the kiss, and the intensity grew at an accelerated pace. We could go from zero to sixty faster than a Lamborghini or a Porsche. My course of action seemed suddenly completely clear to me. Now was the time. I untucked his shirt and ran my hands over his back and chest. Then, still kissing him, I undid his belt, and then his pants. My hand slid under his silk boxers. I heard his sharp intake of breath, felt his body react to my touch.

"Oh, wow, Sydney," he breathed. "You always were, um, _direct_, weren't you?"

"Yes," I said. I looked him in the eye, but his eyes were closing slightly, a reaction to the caress. I was amazed at how soft the skin was on this, his most vulnerable part.

"That feels amazing," he whispered. "You're amazing, Sydney, but… oh, wow... you don't _have_ to do this. Not just... ahhh... because of what I said."

My other hand traveled up around his neck, and I kept him close to me, using my other hand to stroke him, gently. His reaction to my touch amazed me, even made me feel powerful somehow. I thought about the trust involved in letting someone touch you the way I was touching him. It had never occurred to me before. Being with someone like this was as much about trust as it was about anything else, I realized. "I'm not just doing this because of what you said," I murmured. "I made up my mind hours ago."

"If you're sure..." he sighed. "You... oh... you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"I never do anything I don't want to do," I told him.

"Tha-hat's not always, hmm, true," he whispered. He was obviously finding it a bit difficult to speak. "You've been following directions most of your life."

He was right, I knew. But at the same time, I'd always fought to do what was important to me – just in my own way. "Ok," I said. "Then tell me to stop and see if I follow that direction."

"I really don't want you to stop," he said. "But now that you mention it, you really... should... or I'll just um, make a mess of things." He pulled away from me. "I'm sorry," he said. "That just felt _too_ good, you know? I'd rather we... Oh, Sydney." He seemed at a loss for words, but pulled me close to kiss me.

I reached up and undid his tie, as I had been wanting to do all night. "I like your tie," I whispered, as I slid it around his collar and off of him. Then, inspiration striking me, I took a step backwards, towards the hallway that led to his room, and tossed the tie onto a nearby chair. Adrian looked at me, curious, and took a step closer to me. I smiled and took another step back, evading him, and then I kicked my shoes off to the side. Adrian took a step closer, then kicked his shoes off, too. I took a step back, then waited. He grinned and took another step closer, then another. When he was close enough, I kissed him again, and, still kissing him, I slid his jacket off of his shoulders and tossed it onto the chair, which was now a little ways away. Adrian reached for me, but I stepped back again. We were getting closer and closer to his bedroom with each step.

I pulled off the tank top that Jill had lent me, then tossed it on the floor. As I did so, I thought about how shy I used to be about my body in front of Adrian. Just a few months ago I was nervous to even unbutton my blouse in front of him. But now I actually loved to let him see me. When he looked at me, I felt like I might actually really be as beautiful as he said I was. It was the look on his face that I loved, a look as if he were looking at the most beautiful thing in the world.

"I liked that gold top," Adrian said, his voice hushed and very low.

"Want me to put it back on?" I asked, my voice also hushed.

"Not even a little bit," he answered, and took a step closer. Now that he was close enough, I started to unbutton his shirt for him. He let me do it with no protest, but when I had only one button to go, he caught me up in a quick, intense kiss, messing up my hair, pulling my skirt askew. I grinned and escaped, then undid his last button and helped him slip him out of his shirt. He threw it over his shoulder carelessly.

I took a step backwards. I unzipped my skirt and then paused with my fingers on the waistline. "Do you like the skirt, too?" I asked.

"Not as much as I'll like it on the floor," he growled.

I slid the skirt down and stepped out of it.

Adrian looked me up and down, taking in my simple strapless bra and my plain white cotton underwear with a smile, then stepped forward. His pants were already undone, so it was easy for me to slide them down his legs. He stepped out of them and left them on the floor. We stood facing each other, each just in underwear, both breathing heavily. Then, with one of those super quick movements that characterize Moroi, Adrian grabbed me and walked down the rest of the hallway with me in his arms. We kissed as he walked through the door to his darkened bedroom, and then he put me down on the bed, closed the bedroom door, and lay down next to me.

The weird thing was that, now that we were actually where I had basically directed us to go, I felt sort of shy. Even after the passionate kisses we'd shared the night we had reconciled, and the things we'd done on our river ride, and everything else that had happened between us, I found myself suddenly almost frozen in place. Adrian took my hand, which I had clenched almost into a fist, and began straightening out my fingers, one at a time.

"Come here, Sage," he said, and pulled me close. "You can change your mind, you know. It's ok. Let's just..."

"I'm not changing my mind," I said. My voice came out a little harsher than I had thought it would, and I tried to soften it with a smile.

"Well, let's take it slow," Adrian suggested. "One step at a time." He kissed my cheek. "You're in control."

"Ok," I said. "I've never actually... done this."

"I know that," he said, in that gentle, honey voice of his. "I haven't either, you know."

"Of course you have," I said, confused.

"I haven't, though," he said. "I've had sex, sure. But I haven't ever had sex with you. And that makes it different."

I had never thought of it that way. An image popped into my head of me having sex with someone else, someone I didn't like. I pictured me lying passive while some guy was on top of me. Maybe I'd even take out a book and start to read it. Yes, it mattered who you were with, even more than it mattered what you were doing, I realized.

"I'm glad I'm with you," I whispered. "I wouldn't want to be with anyone else."

"Me either," he said.

He didn't move. He was letting me come to him, I knew. So I kissed him, just once, experimentally. I wanted to see if my fear still had me captive. As usual, just the feel of his soft lips on mine was enough to increase my heart rate – I estimated I was at about 160 beats per minute, and rising – and increase the flow of blood to... well... certain parts of my body. I kissed him again, not using my tongue. I was holding out as long as I could. Then I needed more. I rolled partially on top of him, most of my body still on the bed, my hands resting on his shoulder, my chest pressed against his.

"My Adrian," I sighed, and I felt him smile as we continued to kiss. We weren't wearing much, and the feeling of his skin against mine was simultaneously comforting and exciting as we kissed and kissed, harder and harder. Adrian ran his hands through my hair, pulling it a little, making me gasp and lean my head back. My neck was exposed then, and Adrian kissed the vulnerable skin. I returned the favor, using my teeth a little, and after a minute or so of that Adrian seemed to shift into a higher gear. He made a noise low in his throat, rolled me onto my back, and got on top of me. He pulled my bra down on my body a little so that he could lick my nipple, and I gasped a little. I reached around behind me to unhook the bra so I could take it off completely. In the dim light of the room, I could see Adrian's smile before he bent to kiss me again, unimpeded by the bra this time. I loved the feeling, but also wanted to touch him, so after a few moments, I pushed him over onto his back and straddled him. I kissed his neck, his chest, his face. He had his hands on my lower back, and he was moving me slightly against him. His hands on me... His lips on my neck... The sound of his voice, low in my ear... Soon we were both breathing hard, and both our underwear had disappeared.

Adrian's plan for me – the one that he'd been hinting about for days – turned out to be to use compulsion to make me feel... well, certain things. I was hesitant at first, but after a quick demonstration of what Adrian could do for me, well... I gave in. I more than gave in, in fact. I started to love it. Compulsion was such an ugly word. But oh... Adrian used it to make beautiful, beautiful sensations We were so in sync that only rarely did he even have to actually speak out loud.

After a while, Adrian paused to lie near me, stroking the hair out of my face. "This is so cool," he said, keeping eye contact. "I can make you wiggle around like that by just thinking about it."

I breathed shallowly. "Are you... enjoying this... too?" I gasped. I was feeling for all the world like I was being caressed and kissed and stroked by three or four Adrians at once.

"I think almost as much as you are," he said, his face intense. "I like watching you move around. I like looking in your eyes. I like knowing that you're feeling this good because of me, because you're with me. I like making you feel good." He kissed me deeply for a moment. "And judging by your aura," he added, "you feel really good."

And I really did. Soon, Adrian had brought me to a climax, and then shortly after, another one. I lay, panting in his arms, almost wanted to cry because what I'd experienced had been so incredibly intense. Adrian squeezed me tight, kissing me all over my face and making me smile, then he pulled the pillow over to me and tucked it under my head.

"Did you like it?" he asked, his voice low in my ear. He lay next to me again, his cheek on my pillow, one leg draped over me.

"Ohhhhh... wow..." was all I could manage. "Yes."

"I invented that technique for you. No boring sex for my golden-eyed girl."

"That was... sex?" I managed to say.

"Don't you think so?"

"I guess so," I said. "But we still haven't... you know."

Adrian laughed. "If you do it right, sex takes hours and hours. We're doing it right. I'm taking my time, because it's your first time, and I don't want to hurt you. We're still in the middle of things. And don't worry." He leaned closer and spoke low in my ear: "I'll get in the middle of _you_ pretty soon, Sage."

I drew in my breath quickly, feeling a thrill go over me at his words, but I was so sated that after a moment all I could do was sigh happily and wrap my arms around him, pulling him on top of me a little. My eyes began to droop. "I'm... sleepy," I murmured.

"Then sleep for a minute," Adrian said. I rolled onto my side and he curled up next to me, his front to my back. I dozed in his arms for a few minutes as the powerful endorphin wave took me under, into sleep.

After a short while, I woke up to Adrian kissing my neck very, very gently. His kiss began to stir me, and I started to roll over so that I could put my lips to his, but he whispered, "No, no. Don't move." I forced myself to hold still as his tongue played against my neck. I started breathing more deeply, still sleepy but waking up more and more each moment. I tried to move a little to put his fingers where I wanted them, but he pulled away. "I told you," he said, his voice soft and rumbling a little in his chest. "Don't. Move." He bit very, very gently at my neck, then kissed where he had just bit. His hands traveled down to stroke my inner thigh, then they moved to caress me in other places.

"My Adrian," I sighed, not able to say much else. It felt so good to just relax and let him touch me. But after a few minutes, I sat up a little, turned around, and pushed Adrian over on his back, straddling him.

"Oh, hello there," he said.

"Hi," I said. I leaned over him and kissed him, hard, on his mouth and neck, my hands in his hair and on his chest, my body rocking against him. When I attacked his neck a little, he lay back on the pillow, looking almost like someone sunbathing, just enjoying the caresses. Fleetingly, I thought that Adrian would never go sunbathing in his life because he was a vampire, but I pushed the thought away. It wasn't relevant. He was my Adrian, vampire-ness and all. I wasn't a big fan of sunbathing myself, when you get right down to it. But I was a really big fan of Adrian's neck. And his arms, when they went around me. And his narrow hips under my thighs. And his... wow. Yeah. That. I hadn't understood the world's fascination with phallic imagery, all through the history of art. But now, feeling him under me, I was starting to understand.

After a minute or two of kissing and touching him, I sat up a little, still straddling him, needing to catch my breath. Adrian reached up to stroke my face, then he met my eyes and I sensed his power ignite. In a moment, I felt the sensation of his tongue traveling from place to place on my body, even though I was looking right at his smiling face. "Does it feel good?" he whispered.

"Amazing," I stuttered.

"Where do you want me to touch you?" he whispered.

I told him what I wanted, feeling extremely daring for speaking the words out loud. He held my hands in his, looked me in the eye, and created the feeling mentally. I leaned my head back, and Adrian sat up a little to kiss my neck with his actual mouth.

Soon, the sensations Adrian was causing in me were so strong that I couldn't stay sitting up, and I lay back on the bed again. Adrian knelt by me, and with one hand he stroked my face. With the other, he began stroking me between my legs. I kept looking at him in the eyes, amazed to be looking at his face while also feeling his mouth at both breasts and on my neck. I wanted to touch him, and not just on his face or back. I reached over and took him in my hand, and I saw his face react as I began to stroke. "Does it feel good?" I asked, echoing his words from a few minutes ago.

"Amazing," he breathed, and we stayed like that for a short moment, both caught up in sensation and each other. But then he pulled away from me a little. "How do you feel? Do you want to..."

"Oh, yes," I said. "I do."

I saw a smile cross his face. "Keep feeling the feelings," he whispered. "Give me a minute." I closed my eyes, knowing that he wasn't actually touching me, but feeling the most amazing sensations. "Open your eyes," he said gently after a moment, and I did. I looked down and saw that he had put a condom on.

"This won't hurt," he said emphatically, looking me in the eye, and I nodded, understanding. How could it hurt? It was Adrian. I'd wanted him for so long. He lay down on top of me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, as if I'd done this a hundred times before. I felt him slide inside of me, just a little, and he was right, it didn't hurt at all. It only felt good, like the resolution of a chord. I touched his back, ran my fingers through his hair, kissed him. We were actually making love, and oh, it felt so good.

But after only a minute or two, Adrian withdrew. I made a little questioning sound, but Adrian whispered, "Just a moment, sweetheart." I wanted him back inside of me, but he kissed his way down my body again. Then he made a strange sound. "You're bleeding," he said, softly. "I'm sorry. I was trying to avoid that. It didn't hurt, did it?"

"Of course not," I said. "You didn't let it hurt. I'm ok. I feel fine." I paused. "Is it bad?"

"No, not really," he said. "It's just... you're bleeding." He looked up at me, a question on his face. I understood suddenly. He wanted my blood. He had probably smelled it.

"You can, if you want," I said, and I saw something like relief on his face. Immediately he brought his tongue down to the spot where I was bleeding a little. He licked at the blood, and I lay back on the bed in amazement. It felt wonderful, partially because he was touching me in such a sensitive spot, and partially because his endorphins were entering my blood stream through the small tear. I began to feel like I was floating. The combination of the caresses, both real and mental, with the power of his endorphins was even more intense than anything else I'd felt that night. In moments I was biting my lip to keep down the shrieks as I climaxed yet again.

I lay back on the bed, exhausted, and Adrian lay down next to me. I looked over at him, speechless. He grinned. "That's three, right?" he asked.

"Three," I confirmed, giggling. "Tres. San. Tri. Tria. Három. Tre. Drei. Trois. Tatu. Thalaatha..."

"How many languages can you say 'four' in?" Adrian asked. "Because soon you'll be needing that number."

"About twenty languages," I said.

"Can you count to five in those languages, too?"

"I can count to a hundred," I said, deliberately ignoring his implication. "I'm only fluent in five languages, but I know the basics of many more. Please, thank you, excuse me, days of the week, numbers..."

"But can you say 'my hoverjet is full of eels' in Hindi?"

"If you want me to, I'll learn," I said.

"God, I love you," he said, and pulled me close. He seemed content for right now – I guess having some of my blood had given him a bit of a high, as well – and we rested for a bit, my head on his chest.

"We'll have to travel together for real someday," Adrian said, his breath ruffling my hair a little. "Give you a chance to use your languages."

"After we crash that prom, we'll go on a field trip," I said.

"Exactly," he laughed, and kissed the top of my head. "Oh, before I forget," he added, and put his hands on my waist.

"What are you-" I began, and then I felt the waves of hot and cold that always accompanied Adrian's healing powers.

"I hurt you," he whispered. "I didn't mean to, but I did. So it's my responsibility to heal you."

"Ok," I said. I was long past fighting that now. Magic was part of who Adrian was. It wasn't wrong for _him_ to use it. After all, I'd been enjoying his powers quite a bit for the past hour or so. And, now that Adrian wasn't charming me past pain, I _was_ feeling a little sore. Within moments, his healing power had made me good as new.

Well, not new exactly. I'd never be "new" again, I realized, and suddenly the immensity of what I had done hit me full force.

"Are you ok?" Adrian asked, as if sensing my sudden change in mood.

"I think so," I said. "I just... I just realized what we did. It changes everything."

"Not everything," Adrian said. "Look at me, Sydney." I sat up a little, propping myself up on one elbow to meet his eyes. "I haven't changed how I feel about you," he said. "Well, maybe I feel a little..." He searched for the right word. "A little closer, I guess. You? Do you feel different about me?"

I thought about it. I thought of Adrian, laughing in front of the TV with me while we watched a stupid movie. Adrian, healing dozens of strangers after a bus accident. Adrian, standing in the middle of a dark room, his feet bleeding, needing me so badly that it broke my heart. Adrian, kissing me silly in the pine forest of my childhood. Adrian, showing me the world in dreams, and teaching me not to be so afraid of magic. Adrian, leaning over me, charming me with his magic into the most intense and amazing feelings I'd ever felt. Did I feel different about him, now that I'd experienced this? "No," I said. "I'm still completely crazy about you."

He grinned. "I'll take that," he said.

"Are you... ok?" I asked. "I mean, you didn't get to..." I trailed off. For all that I had a reputation for being direct, it was difficult for me to speak frankly about these things. But I was keenly aware that I had "enjoyed myself" three times, and Adrian hadn't had a chance yet.

"I got to have some of your blood," Adrian said. "For me, that's about as good. I mean," he added hastily, "it isn't, when it's just a random feeder. But getting to drink from you is like..." He sighed. "It just satisfies me in a way I know you'll never be able to understand. You'll just have to believe me."

"If you're happy, I'm happy," I said. "But you didn't have much, did you?"

"Not a ton," he said. "It was enough to taste you." He sighed happily. "Thank you, sweetheart." He squeezed me tight.

"Of course," I said. "You've done so much for me tonight." _And if you just let him bite you, he'd be doing even more_, noted the Traitor. She was right, I knew, but I wasn't ready for that. I had changed a lot in the past few months, grown tolerant to many things, and part of me was fascinated by the thought of Adrian biting me. Part of me even wanted it. But not yet. Not tonight. Maybe not ever.

"You've done a lot for me, too," Adrian said.

"Not like you have..." I began, but Adrian cut me off.

"You have. Trust me. This has been the best night of my life so far." He grinned. "How is it ranking for you?"

Number one with a bullet, I thought, immediately. "Top five," I said out loud.

"What are the other four?" he asked.

"Tonight," I said, counting on my fingers. "Tonight, tonight, and tonight."

Adrian laughed, pulling me close. We snuggled up, not speaking for a little while, until Adrian broke the silence by whispering, "Has tonight been... too much? I mean, has it been too... dirty? I know it was your first time. I hope I haven't freaked you out or anything."

"It hasn't really felt 'dirty' to me," I said. "It's you and me. We care about each other. How could what we do together be dirty?"

He smiled, and began running a lazy finger over my arm, back and forth. "I'm glad you see it that way. I guess I just really want to make you happy. Like, really, really, happy. I want you to smile whenever you think of this night, for the rest of your life."

"I think I will," I said, softly, and ran my fingers through his hair.

"Good," he whispered, low in my ear. He nibbled at my ear lobe, very gently, then ran his tongue over my neck. Was he actually ready to go again? As he continued to kiss me, I felt my pulse rate increase. I realized that, amazingly, _I_ was pretty much ready to go again, too. _Well, you spent half a year making out with the hottest guy on the planet. What did you think it would do to your libido?_ the Traitor asked, amused.

"You drive me crazy," I whispered.

"You drive me everywhere," Adrian whispered back, and I giggled. "But mostly crazy," he added, and rolled on top of me.

And then we were off again, kissing as if we had just invented the sport and were going for the gold. I felt almost like I was another person, a bolder person, more able to give and receive the amazing caresses that we were exchanging. After a while, Adrian moved away for a moment, and I watched as he put on another condom. I made a mental note to learn how they worked so I could do it for him in the future, and then he turned to me.

He began to crawl on top of me, but I grabbed him and rolled him on his back. He grinned at me as I moved over to straddle him. "Oh yeah?" he said. "There's the fierce girl I fell in love with."

"Hush, Ivashkov," I said, and, leaning on one hand and grasping him with the other, I guided him slowly inside of me. He was meeting my gaze with such an intense expression that I almost had to look away. In some ways, I didn't want this to ever stop. I loved being like this with him, so close to him. It was exactly right in some indefinable way. I lowered myself down so that we were chest to chest, and I began to move.

It felt amazing, especially when Adrian began sending out waves of compulsion-caresses. I felt him everywhere. With his real hands, he stroked my face, breasts, and back. With his real mouth, he spoke to me, soft words, loving words. He told me how beautiful I was, how good it felt, how much he had wanted me. I told him pretty much the same thing, feeling like for once my words weren't clumsy or stupid. Sometimes we said nothing at all, but just kissed. How could something as simple as contact have so much meaning? How could it cause such a full body reaction? When we changed positions so that he was on top once more, I loved that feeling too. I loved his weight on me, I loved the look on his face. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his back. I loved the feel of him.

And when his moment drew close, he used compulsion to make sure that mine did, too. _Oh, my Adrian_, was my only clear thought, as I reached my climax. _My joy. _Adrian, meanwhile, had let out a hoarse groan, almost like someone in pain, but then I saw the smile blossoming on his face. "Sydney," he panted, and held onto me like I was a raft in a deep sea. "Oh, Syd." He covered my face with kisses, and I giggled.

We lay there for a while, his cheek pressed against my stomach, me stroking his hair. I began to slip into a bit of a doze, and I think Adrian did the same. After a little while, I came out of it, and saw Adrian looking at me. "Hi," I said.

"Hi, sweetheart," he said.

"That was..."

"Yeah," he agreed, and kissed my stomach. "So what's that for you now? Four?"

"Four," I said. "Cuatro, tessera, četiri, quatre, vier, dört, fire, quattro..."

He cut me off with a kiss on the lips. Even now, satisfied as a person could ever be, I felt myself begin to react to the feeling of his lips on mine. It was as if the more we kissed, the more I wanted to kiss. I've heard of people who only have sex with their partners once and then leave. How different that must be, to not care for the person, or even really be attracted to them. I tried to imagine making love with Adrian only once. It would be like eating a single M&M. I wanted to eat the whole bag. I wanted to eat the whole bag and then buy the factory and move into it.

We didn't kiss long, as we were both so tired and sated. We just cuddled back up, Adrian stroking my arm, me stroking his hair. We had both worked up a bit of a sweat, which oddly enough, I wasn't embarrassed about in the slightest. A little while later, Adrian got us a glass of water, and then we lay for a while sipping it and cuddling. When the glass was empty, Adrian put it on his nightstand and we lay close to each other, as if breaking the contact between our skin would be fatal.

And there, in the quiet, warm darkness, I reached out mentally and found that spot in him where the darkness of spirit tended to accumulate. There was a small pool of dark energy there, so I began wiping clean. I was too happy and giddy to remember that I wasn't supposed to be doing this in the waking world. As I continued to do whatever it was that I was doing, I thought, _This isn't really me doing magic. It is just me accessing Adrian's own magic._ After all, the darkness was the after-effect of spirit, so it seemed right that Adrian's own magic would clear it out... right?

_That makes perfect sense, _laughed the Traitor. _Well reasoned. Well justified. I'm impressed. _

"Hush," I whispered to her, though out loud I said nothing, focusing on the healing.

Adrian held me tighter and then relaxed. "Wow, Sydney," he said after a pause. "You're getting better and better at that."

"It's just physics," I said. "I'm just directing your own energy into your mind. Like Hercules cleaning out the Augean stables."

"If you say so," Adrian said, sleepily, and kissed the top of my head. "I'm just lucky to have you in my life."

"I feel lucky, too," I said. "I can't imagine my life without you."

"You _are_ lucky," he said. "You don't have to."

We cuddled up in our usual position, with me lying on his chest and his arms around me. I felt safe and warm and completely satisfied, to the point of almost giddiness. The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was Adrian whispering, "I love you, Sage." And a voice whispered inside of my head that I loved him too, and I promised myself that sometime very soon I'd say it out loud.

_A/N: So, a word of explanation here. _

_This is the not the first draft I did of this chapter. I originally wrote a significantly longer, significantly more... specific version. Why, you might be wondering, did I edit down the chapter, down to the version you just read? Because the longer version of the story is hella dirty, folks. I know the rest of my story is rated M. But the scene as I originally wrote it is really, really, really M. It's pretty much the same intensity of a scene between Sookie and one of her various lovers in the Sookie series, if you've ever read those. The original story, in the apparent parlance of fanfiction, an extremely juicy lemon. I mean, I know the one you just read was a lemon, but... The original? Like, we might need a new term for stories like that. Grapefruit or something, I don't know._

_If you want to read it, it's posted under the name "Do You Trust Me." You can find it through my author's page, or just under the VA listing. _

_But listen. It's a bit much. Plus, I know that several of you are under a certain age. You know who you are. If you're not sure if you should read it, then don't. No plot points are revealed, nothing like that. You get the gist – heck, more than just the gist – of things from the version you already read. But if you really want to know what exactly Adrian did to make Sydney sooooo happy, well... you can go read the longer version of the story. _

_Do what you think is right. Just don't say I didn't warn you._

_Oh, and chapters 27 and 28 are well underway. They should be up in a few days, I guess. Say by this time next week they should both definitely be up, and maybe 29 as well, I don't know. _


	33. I: Skeletons and Black Boots

**Book I: The Forest and the Door in the Tree**

**Chapter 27: Skeletons and Black Boots**

I woke up in Adrian's bed, with one of his legs draped over me. I loved that even in his sleep he couldn't get enough of touching me. The room was still dark, and I tried to go back to sleep, pulling Adrian closer to me like a blanket, snuggling into him like a huge pillow. Unfortunately, I really did have to get up. I snuck out of Adrian's arms, and when he made a noise in his sleep, I pulled a pillow up to replace my body temporarily. Adrian sighed and fell back into a deeper sleep. I was as quiet as I could be sneaking out of the room and closing the door softly behind me, then I walked softly over to the bathroom.

When I left the bathroom, I couldn't help but walk down the hall to look at the painting again, feeling that rush of pride and affection that it had roused in me the night before. It amazed me that this was how Adrian saw me.

Suddenly, I had a vision of what our lives might be like, a few years in the future. It seemed as clear as something that was actually happening. We'd get a place together, and that awful plaid couch could go in the basement, where the kids would play. We'd hang the huge painting of me in the bedroom, somewhere where only family would see it. When I had been growing up, I had always wondered whether my mother and father had ever loved each other, even a little bit. But it'd be different with me and Adrian. When our children saw that painting, they'd never wonder how their father felt about their mother. They'd be embarrassed of how affectionate their mother and father were, how we'd always dance together at weddings, how we'd always stop to give each other kisses for no reason. It was good for children to see that their parents were in love. They'd be happy, and healthy, and loved...

I stopped dead in my mental tracks, wondering what I had been thinking. If Adrian and I were to have children, they'd be dhampirs, unholy mixtures of human and vampire. Of course they'd be healthy. Their vampire blood would ensure them an unnaturally long life and vitality. I took a deep breath, trying to shed the old familiar terminology, trying to remember where I was and what I was doing. Before I'd met a dhampir, I'd always been revolted at the idea of sex between humans and vampires, and even more so at the idea of their offspring walking the earth. "And look at me now," I whispered aloud.

The truth of the situation hit me again, and I sank down on the couch, as if the weight of my thoughts were too much to bear standing up. I was dating a vampire. I had just lost my virginity to a vampire. I had let a vampire use his magic on me, and I had liked it. Really, really, really liked it. In fact, I kind of wanted to march right back into the bedroom and like it some more. I wanted to like it in every room of Adrian's apartment. The desire was strong, almost overwhelming, but it didn't jive with the other confused, anxious thoughts thrumming through me.

I stared at the painting again. Adrian hadn't mentioned what its title was, but it didn't really matter. It might as well have been called "Adrian Loves Sydney," because that was what anyone who looked at it would think.

He _did_ love me, right? He hadn't just been saying all that to get me into bed? That would be ridiculous. If this whole relationship was just a way to get me into bed, then he'd really been going to great lengths for that, using time that he could have used to seduce a lot of other women much more easily. He hadn't pushed me, hadn't insisted. He had just wanted me, patiently, unceasingly. He had wanted me for me.

And he _wasn't_ evil, no matter what I had been raised to think about Moroi. And Rose wasn't evil, nor was Eddie, or Jill. I had spent the night enjoying the effects of Adrian's magic, and though it certainly wasn't G-rated or anything, it wasn't evil. It was us. It was love.

So... what was my problem? Maybe it was just natural to wake up after a night like the one we'd had and feel unsure. I told myself to just go back to bed, to cuddle up to Adrian and feel his warmth against me. He'd probably want to pull me close again, and I'd feel wrapped up in his love. Maybe he'd wake up. Maybe he'd kiss my neck, and whisper something sweet to me...

But for some reason, I found my gaze traveling over to the other painting, the one in the corner, the one under the sheet. I felt certain that it was the painting that Adrian had been working on when I surprised him in the dream a night or two ago. Suddenly, I wanted to see that painting so intensely that it was almost overwhelming. Involuntarily, I rose to my feet and began walking over to the corner. If Adrian was keeping something secret from me, I wanted to know why. There shouldn't be secrets between us, especially considering everything that we had shared. _Nice justification_, said the Traitor. "Shut up," I told her, and peeked under the sheet.

It was, in fact, the same painting that I had glimpsed in the spirit dream a few days ago. Most of the canvas was taken up with a strange, almost frightening landscape, but the eye was drawn to one corner, where a female figure was marching along, blonde hair streaming behind her. She looked distorted and ill, with huge sunken eyes and a hunched, sickly posture. Her clothing was hanging off of her in strips. Her hair was patchy and parts of her scalp were visible. In front of the figure lay two paths: one leading to a sunny, happy looking meadow, and one towards a dark, frightening forest full of misshapen trees and red, monstrous eyes. The wraith-like figure was walking down the path towards the darkness, her thin blonde hair streaming behind her. A golden lily glinted on one of her cheeks.

I dropped the cloth.

What did this mean? Why was he painting me this way? I didn't look anything like that. I mean, I wanted to be thin, of course, but this figure was just a few degrees away from actually being a walking skeleton, a dead thing. Was it just symbolic of something? Maybe it symbolized me working too hard or something.

_You could always just ask him, _muttered my constant companion.

"Not a good idea," I told myself. "And by the way, this whole talking to myself thing is still a bit worrying."

I reached forward to look at the painting again, and my hand was on the cloth when I heard a voice behind me.

"What are you doing?" Adrian asked. I turned around to look at him. His face was difficult to read in the gray pre-dawn light.

"I'm..." I trailed off. I just couldn't think of a single word to say.

"You decided to look at that painting," Adrian said. "I don't recall saying that you could look at that one." His voice was eerily calm.

"I know, but..." Again, I felt like I couldn't say a word. Apparently, Adrian was also lost for words, and we regarded each other in silence for a long, long moment.

"Well, let's just talk about it then," Adrian said finally, and stepped forward to lift the sheet off the painting. We both just looked at it for a moment, then Adrian came and took my hand. "At some point, we're going to have to talk about you looking at the painting when I didn't say you could," he said. "Because I'm a little angry about that. But the angry thing is totally outweighed by the love-you thing and the worried thing."

"The worried thing?" I repeated. "What are you talking about?"

"What do you think of the painting?" Adrian asked me, as if he hadn't heard me.

"What are you talking about, 'the worried thing'?" I said again. Adrian didn't answer. He just held my hand. "I think it's... scary," I answered finally, slowly. "I'm sorry I looked at it. I mean, since you didn't want me to." I was sorry I had looked at it, full stop. I wished suddenly, desperately, that I had just gone back to bed with Adrian and not peeked under that stupid sheet. But actions and choices have consequences, and here we were.

"It's called 'The Wrong Path,'" Adrian said. "Can you guess what it means? I think my symbolism is pretty obvious."

"I never took modern artistic interpretation classes," I said. "Or really read any books on the subject. My strength lies more in ancient works and architecture..." I trailed off, seeing the look on Adrian's face. "Well, what does it mean, then? Do you want to tell me?"

Suddenly, Adrian pulled me to him in a tight hug. The tension in the room had been rising and I was surprised at the caress, but then I relaxed against him.

"Maybe it's a good thing this happened," Adrian murmured in my ear. "I was going to show you the painting when I felt like the time was right, anyway. It just wasn't going to be this morning." He pulled away a little so that he could look me in the eyes, but he kept his face just inches from mine. "You're too smart to play stupid, sweetheart. Do you really not understand what the painting means?" We pulled away from each other a little to look back at the painting, as if it held the answer to his question.

"I really don't," I said. I did, though. I did. And I hated it. I hated the meaning of the painting, and the painting itself. I wanted to be thin, not dead. Why did people act as if the two things were the same? And if being thin meant some sacrifice, some discomfort, wasn't it worth it? Wasn't it my business, anyway, what I did with my body?

Adrian kept staring at me, waiting for me to speak again. I set my mouth in a thin line and gave him a look that told him the ball was in his court. So he took a deep breath, and, said, "Then I'll spell it out. You've lost too much weight. You're beautiful, and you're sexy. You're... wonderful. I love you. But you need to stop dieting now, Sydney. You have to start eating."

"I eat," I said, hearing the note of defensiveness in my voice and hating it, too.

"Not enough," he said. "Look at yourself. Look how thin you've gotten."

"Thank you, but I'm not really thin..."

"Sweetheart, you're too thin. It's not good." The note of concern in his voice was transforming into condescension, I thought. It was awful to hear.

"What, you think I look like that?" I asked, gesturing to the painting and the skeletal figure in the corner. "Like a zombie?"

"No," he said. "But I'm afraid you're on your way."

"I'm not," I said. I set my jaw resolutely and took a few steps away from Adrian. Anger was burning in me now, hot and steady. It felt like a bright orange coal in the pit of my stomach.

"It's just... I want to help you," Adrian said, gently. "I worry about you. I don't know how to help..."

"Well, _don't _help then," I said. "I don't need help anyway. You don't know what you're talking about." I began moving around the room, finding the clothing I had scattered around the night before. Was that only a few hours ago? It seemed like a long time ago now.

"What are you doing?" Adrian asked in a flat voice.

"I'm going to get dressed and go back to Amberwood. I don't need to be here with someone who thinks there's something wrong with me just because I want to stay in shape." Even to myself, the words seemed childish and stupid. But something was powering me forward. "There's nothing wrong with being thin. Don't act like there is. It's my right to do what I want."

"Sydney," Adrian said, and I thought he was going to say a lot more. I looked up at him and saw him just shaking his head. I put my hands on my hips, feeling my hip bone, comforting under my fingers. I raised my eyebrows at him, daring him to speak. Finally, he said, "I'm not good at this stuff, sweetheart. I don't know what I'm supposed to say or do. I feel really... helpless. I just want to help. I love you _so_ much." He raked his hands through his hair. "I... I'm doing a terrible job of this. But I swear, I love you. You know I'm only trying to help."

He sounded so miserable that I was almost wanted to comfort him, which was messed up. I was angry at him, after all. "Stop saying you love me like it's the end of every argument," I said. "It doesn't work like that." Adrian watched me putting on my skirt, then moved over to help me zip it. I swatted his hand away. "I can do it myself!" It was the classic line of a cranky three-year-old, and I knew it, but I couldn't stop. "I'm fine! I have everything under control."

"Yes," said Adrian. "You always do. That's sort of the problem. Let me ask you something. What did you eat yesterday?"

I paused in the middle of smoothing out the tank-top. "I had some eggs and fruit for breakfast," I said. "I had that pizza with you for lunch, and I don't remember what I had for dinner, but remember, I had that cake and those pretzels at the show? That's tons of food." That was true enough. I had had two egg whites for breakfast and a slice of melon. For lunch, I had had that whole slice of pizza, so I had skipped dinner. At the exhibition, I had had a bite of cake before I had been able to surreptitiously throw it away, and I had also had a handful of tiny pretzels. The whole day was just under 700 calories, which made it an ok day, I thought. I usually preferred to keep it under 500 if I could. But for some reason I didn't explain about that to Adrian. Guys just didn't understand about calories. Especially Moroi guys, who can eat 20 containers of ice cream in a day and not gain an ounce.

"Is it tons of food?" Adrian said. "Is that how much you usually have?"

"Shut up," I said. "You're not my father or something, to tell me how to eat."

"No," Adrian said. "I'm not your father."

"So shut up," I said again.

I finished putting on my clothes. Adrian watched me slipping on my shoes, then commented, in an off-hand voice, "You didn't bring a jacket, right? If you insist on leaving, at least let me lend you a sweater to wear. It's cold in the mornings."

He picked up a charcoal gray sweater from the coffee table and held it out to me. For a moment I considered crossing my arms and refusing it, but I knew that would be ridiculous. I stood still, not sure what to do. Adrian gave me a wan smile, then slipped the sweater over my head. What a condescending jerk! I stood there with it around my neck like an enormous scarf for a minute, then pushed my arms through the sleeves and pulled it down around me. It was his favorite cashmere sweater, I noted. Suddenly I wanted to cry.

"Happy?" I asked, trying to hold onto my anger. It was so much safer than the tears.

"No," he replied. "But if you're determined to be like this, go home. I'm ready to talk when you are." He sighed. "Like I said, I can't really be angry at you. I'm too worried."

"I told you, don't be," I said. We stood at looked at each other, and the moment crystallized for me somehow. I felt like I could see the scene from every angle, and very little of it made sense. Suddenly, I was terrified, terrified of what we'd done, terrified of how I felt, and terrified of my anger and Adrian's concern. "I'm leaving," I said, in a strangled voice.

"I wish you wouldn't," Adrian said. "But I can't make you stay. I can't make you do anything."

I stood in the doorway and looked behind me for a moment, and saw Adrian standing there looking at me. He held his hand out to me, then slowly gestured for me to come back. I had a terrible feeling inside. It was like when you swallow a bit of cracker wrong and it goes down sideways and hurts the whole way. But I turned my back on him and left anyway.

As I made my way down to the car, I tried to calm myself. Strangely, the anger was calming – or, at least, it was better than the fear and the uncertainty. So, I fumed the whole drive over to Amberwood. Who did Adrian think he was? What gave him the authority to comment on my body? He was just... some guy. Some vampire, to be specific.

_Nice job playing the vampire card_, said the Traitor.

"Well, that's what he is," I answered.

_That works out nicely then, _she said._ That way, whenever he says or does something you don't like, you can call him a vampire and feel better._

"He didn't just say something I didn't like. He was completely wrong about me, and then he painted a mean picture of me to make fun of me."

_Is that what happened?_ asked the Traitor. And then she fell silent, and I was left to rant and rave about Adrian in peace.

When I got back to my room, I changed out of my party clothes, leaving Adrian's sweater in a neat pile on my desk, and put on some jogging clothes. I wanted to sweat out some of my anger. I set off out of my dorm along the path I usually took when I jogged. I ran a little too fast at first, and then enjoyed the feeling of my chest burning as I tried to get the air back in. I ran until I was covered in sweat, and then I walked back to the dorm. I was surprised to see that it was just after six in the morning. The sun was barely up and there was plenty of time before I had to be anywhere today. I took a shower and got dressed again, this time in regular clothes. I was restless, so I left the dorm again, thinking I might just go for a walk and try to enjoy the quiet of early morning.

I walked for a while, listening to the birds and the sound of the sprinklers as they sprang to life and began watering the perfect lawns of Amberwood. I tried to empty my head of thought, then thought to pray silently for a while, hoping that heaven might lend me a little peace, hoping that I wasn't too much of a sinner to deserve it. And with the concept of forgiveness clear in my mind, I wondered who should really be forgiving whom.

Suddenly, I looked down at what I had on and sighed. Without noticing it, I had put on Adrian's sweater before I'd left my dorm. It was just like what I had done in dreams, when we were broken up and I was denying how much I still cared for him.

This was ridiculous. We had had a fight, and over something simultaneously so stupid and confusing that I wasn't even quite sure why I was angry. It was nice of Adrian to be worried about me, even if he was completely wrong. Why did it unnerve me so much? And it's not as if I wanted to break up over this. Far from it. The idea of breaking up with Adrian was like a pit of sadness so awful that I was afraid to even look down to the bottom of it.

The anger drained out of me, along with the restless energy that had been powering me. I sat down on a bench and put my head in my hands.

Mentally, I ran back through the events one more time. Looking back, I saw how much I was in the wrong. I had unfairly looked at Adrian's painting without permission. I had gotten angry just because he had expressed a concern – as unfounded as it might be. And I guess I had gotten upset that he had painted that sort of ugly painting of me. But maybe the figure wasn't actually me. Maybe it was sort of a representative symbol of... of... I struggled for what it could be a symbol of, then decided on 'not eating enough.'

But it didn't matter about the painting. It mattered that I had walked out on a guy who loved me over something inane. And now, my problem-solving habits kicked into gear. The problem? A fight with Adrian. The solution? Well, that was obvious. I was going to go back over to Adrian's. I wanted to fix this before I did anything else with my day. As I stood up from the bench, I realized that I wasn't far from the parking lot, and wondered if, sub-consciously, I had been planning to go back over to Adrian's the whole time.

As I walked towards the parking lot, I wondered if Adrian had gone back to sleep again by now. I pictured myself getting the key from under the mat and going in, then slipping into bed with him. Maybe he'd cuddle with me in his sleep, or maybe he'd wake up right away. Either way, when he woke up, I would apologize for having invaded his privacy by looking at the painting. Then I would tell him that he was wrong about me for sure, that there was nothing wrong with me, but that I appreciated his concern. I would admit that maybe I was just feeling strange about having lost my virginity and that maybe I had taken out some of my uncertainty on him. Maybe I had just picked a fight because I was scared. Surely that was all that it was, right? That, coupled with the surprise of his incorrect accusations towards me.

I wondered for a moment if he would forgive me, but then I smiled. Of course he would. He loved me, after all! He had said so. My smile got bigger. He'd forgive me, and kiss me, and pull me close... And then maybe... maybe we would make love again. I broke into a full grin, and I felt a tingle go through me. My Adrian...

"Sydney?"

I turned my head towards the sound of the small voice. It was Jill. She was sitting under her favorite tree, wearing the t-shirt and shorts she often wore to bed, and she was crying. I changed direction and began walking towards her. Somewhere inside of myself, an annoyed thought sprang up: I didn't want to waste time with Jill's problem, whatever it was, because I wanted to go to Adrian and make up as soon as possible.

_And make __out__ as soon as possible_, interjected the Traitor. I couldn't exactly disagree with her.

"What's wrong, Jill?" I asked, sitting down next to her. I put an arm around her shoulder, and she sniffed. I suddenly remembered a time when I would have felt uncomfortable about even touching her. That seemed like a million years ago now.

"What do you think?" Jill replied, through sobs.

"Eddie?"

"Of course," she said.

"What happened?" I asked her, gently.

She sniffed a few times. "At the gallery last night," she said, "I was at the snack table, you know, and then there was Eddie, and he was there too. And we started talking somehow, and then he said that I looked pretty, and then I said that he looked pretty too, and then I felt dumb because I had said that a guy was pretty, and then I kind of blushed, you know? And Eddie, he just stared at me for a second, and then we both started laughing, and then he took my hand and squeezed it, and it felt like... Normal. You know? Normal. Like before we had ever... um, whatever."

"And then what?" I asked.

She told me the rest of the story. After I had dropped her and Eddie off at Amberwood, he had come up to her room to make sure she was ok considering the situation with Angeline. "Like I wouldn't be?" she said, shrugging. "I guess the house mom still has her crush on him or something and kind of lets him wander about the whole dorm just because he's my 'brother.' But Angeline wasn't even around." Eddie had knocked on her door, and after she had let him in, and he had asked about Angeline, he had stood there awkwardly for a minute in silence. She had asked him what was wrong, and he had closed the door and suddenly gathered her into a kiss. She had been surprised for a moment, but then had kissed him back.

"We sort of... um... fell on my bed," she said. "We... um, yeah. We were really kissing, you know?"

"I get it," I said. It kind of grossed me out to picture my two friends kissing like that, so I tried not to let my mind create the mental image.

"It was only for a minute or two," she said, ruefully. "Maybe five minutes max. But it felt good to... touch him. To be next to him again. He hadn't been talking to me for the last week or two, and I'd been missing him. But then he just suddenly jumped up and left."

"He didn't say anything?" I asked.

"He said something like, 'You're beautiful, but I can't do this.'" She made an annoyed little noise. "At least he said that I'm beautiful. That's nice to know." She sniffed again. "Beautiful, but not beautiful enough, I guess."

"You're plenty beautiful enough," I said. "Eddie just has his own reasons for doing this."

"What are they?" she asked, desperately.

I wanted to tell her what I knew, that Eddie was in love with her but thought that he couldn't be with her because of the differences in their status. But it wasn't my secret to tell.

"I couldn't say," I said, which was basically the truth. "I just don't want you to be so sad about it. It's clear from Eddie's actions towards you that he finds you attractive, and it's also clear that he cares a great deal about you. There must just be something that's keeping him from being with you, and maybe in time he'll deal with that and move on." That was a lame speech, I thought. I wondered if anyone would actually be soothed by that. But Jill took it in and appeared to stop crying quite as hard. "By the way," I added, "what are you doing up so early?"

"I woke up like for self-defense class again," she said. "I'm just used to waking up this early, and even though Eddie hasn't been doing it lately, I thought maybe this morning he'd sort of show up, and maybe we could talk a little, or something. But he didn't show." She looked at me suddenly, as if she had just now noticed me. "How about you? Why are you up so early?"

"I was out for a jog before," I said, casually.

"Hmmm," she said. "A jog. And now that you're done with your jog?"

"I thought I'd go do some errands before school."

She eyed me skeptically, then cocked her head to the side as if listening to something far away. Finally she said, "I can't hear Adrian these days. Whatever you guys are doing to mute the bond is really working. I get nothing, not even a hint."

I wanted to ask her what Adrian had to do with my errands, but thought better of it.

"It's strange," she went on. "I hated the bond at first, you know? It was like having the tv on and stuck on one channel all the time. Plus I saw things I didn't want to see." She paused, making a face, then continued. "But after a while it got to where I kind of liked the bond. I was never lonely, with the bond in my head. Especially when you two are together and Adrian's happy. I don't mean, like, _together_ together," she hastened to add. "I just meant, when you're dating, and he's happy, and when I go into his mind I just feel... happy. Anyway, now that the bond is kind of closed, it almost makes it worse for me, what Eddie is doing to me, because I can't like, escape into Adrian's brain and think his thoughts for a while instead, and I know it's a good thing, but still it's hard, and I'm kind of... sad." She looked down at her feet.

"Come here," I said, and hugged her. It was awkward to hug her since she was at least half a foot taller than me, but she leaned against me gratefully. "It'll be ok," I said to her hair.

"Thanks," she said, as she released me. "So... what errands are you going to do?"

A noise behind me stopped me from replying. I started to turn around to see what it was but then I noticed that there were two men approaching us in my line of vision. Then I turned to look behind me and saw that there were three more men approaching from that direction as well. In the light of the rising sun I could see golden tattoos glinting on some of the men's cheeks.

"You hug them?" said one of the men. He wasn't much older than me, I judged. He wearing a huge ugly gold cross, and his golden tattoo was noticeably faded. "You _console_ them? Is there no end to the filth? As if molesting your spirit with sexual congress with one of them isn't enough."

I looked around me, glancing at each of the five men in turn. Jill looked at me, her eyes wide. I said nothing. There was really nothing to say.

"We really hit the lottery," said one of the other men. He gestured to Jill. "The Creep-a-droo really wanted her for the project out at the elephants."

"As for you, Miss Sage," said Gold Cross. "I bet you can guess why we're here."

"I don't need to guess," I said. I was proud of how level my tone was as I looked the man up and down. "Wow. You guys really _do_ wear black boots."

That's when they jumped us.


	34. EXTRA: Mini-summary of Book I

Let's pause for a brief recap. You're welcome, of course, to skip this, if you feel like you remember the story!

So, **The Door in the Tree** is going to have four "books" (I think). The second two "books" don't have names yet, sorry. Hey, this is a work in progress! But you just finished reading **Book 1: The Forest and the Door.** Now you're about to read - at least, I hope you are about to read - **Book 2: These Three Remain.** But here is a chapter-by-chapter summary of the first book. Warning: it sounds kind of flat and stupid when it's reduced to the bare bones like this. If you read this *instead* of the story, you're going to miss out on 99.99999% of the fun. But this could be useful if you've read the whole thing a long time ago and don't want to re-read the whole thing, or if you're trying to find a favorite part. Other warning: I go back and edit and fix stuff sometimes, so you might want to re-read the whole thing because it might be slightly different now.

**1. Roman Holiday**

Sydney visits Rome in a dream with Adrian, despite her initial objections. They banter in their typical way, touching on the nature of magic, evil, talent, and the meaning of the word "nature." They also eat ice cream and flirt. Toward the end of the night Sydney starts to get scared and doesn't know why, and wakes up.

**2. Drowning**

Sydney visits Adrian's apartment with Jill and Eddie. He's been acting weird since their dream visit to Rome. He's painted her as a warrior and a goddess, which he says is how he sees her. They end up kissing, much to her surprise, and he confesses that he accidentally used compulsion on her to initiate the kiss. Sydney is left confused and upset by the whole thing.

**3. Rose Logic**

Not sure who else to talk to, Sydney calls Rose for some insight into Adrian's motives. Rose is very typically Rose but actually deals pretty well with the whole thing. Rose suggests that maybe Sydney accept Adrian's apology.

**4. The Forest and the Door**

Adrian asks Sydney to choose the location of their next dream visit, and she chooses a pine forest from her childhood. There, they talk things through for a while, and finally, Sydney admits that she has serious strong feelings for Adrian, and forgives him, recognizing that it was an honest mistake. They end up kissing for a while before Adrian opens a door in a tree to take them back to his apartment in Palm Springs (or at least, a dream of his bed). They fall asleep within the dream, and she wakes up in her own bed, really happy, and then slightly confused: where did that pine needle in her hair come from?

**5. Balance**

Sydney realizes that spending too much time in dreams leaves her exhausted in real life. Still, when Adrian invites Sydney "out" for their first date, she can't wait to go. They explore Venice together and talk and Sydney gets past some of her shyness. Toward the end of the night, Adrian starts acting strange, and Sydney realizes he is having trouble with spirit darkness. Somehow, she heals him. Then he heals her in return, helping her with the mental fatigue the dreams cause. When she wakes up, she find some glitter on her face from the mask she'd worn in the dream.

**6. Come at Me**

Sydney talks to Eddie about Adrian during a self-defense lesson. He urges her to be careful, reminding her that anything she does with Adrian will affect Jill, and that, in fact, it already has. He thinks they should tell Jill. Sydney thinks he's being hypocritical and returns his verbal volleys by reminding him that he's hurting Jill too with his confusing indifference. Then she tells him to take Jill to sit by a certain tree that must have an underground water source, since it would make Jill happy to be near water.

**7. Love Makes You Do the Wacky**

Sydney calls Rose to talk more about Adrian. Specifically, she asks if Rose and Adrian ever had sex, and Rose is annoyed but says that no, they didn't. Rose reminds Sydney that she (Sydney) will never be at peace until she's honest to herself. Sydney admits she's nervous that she won't be able to keep with Adrian, that he might want sex or blood or just more than she can give. Rose tells her to be patient, and to tell Jill the truth.

**8. Things I'm Not Thinking About**

Time passes, about three months. Sydney and Adrian spend a lot of time together, which is recounted in vignettes. They travel to many places and also spend certain Thursday afternoons together. Sydney won't let herself think about how much she's starting to care about Adrian, how afraid she is that the relationship will end when Adrian goes back to the Moroi court, and what other people would think if they knew. She doesn't even know she's not thinking about how closely she's watching her calories, or how much weight she's losing. She also is afraid to admit that strange things keep happening, or that she is regularly healing Adrian's spirit darkness. Finally, she falls asleep in class and has a spirit dream with Adrian, during which she "fixes" a classmate's broken pencil. When she wakes up, the pencil is still fixed.

**9. The Traitor (parts 1 and 2)**

Sydney and Adrian go to Porto, Portugal, and end up talking about port wine, love, boats, and how much Adrian "loves boats." Sydney names her inner monolog "the Traitor" because it keeps pointing out inconvenient truths to her. Sydney puts on Adrian's t-shirt in a dream, then wakes up with it still on in reality.

**10. Surprise, Surprise, Surprise**

Sydney wakes up with not just the t-shirt, but also a nice collection of psychic hickeys*. Sydney gets excused from class since "a family member is there to see her." Of course, the family member is Adrian, who had brought a cake to bribe/confuse the front staff into letting Sydney out of class. Sydney and Adrian go over to Adrian's apartment. He encourages her to eat some cake he baked for her, a cake which Sydney finds almost irresistible. He shows her the bottle of port that appeared in his room. She admits that weird stuff has been happening - the pencil, the pine needle, the hickeys, the t-shirt, etc. Adrian says he thinks that it's something that Sydney is doing, and that maybe they should hold off on more spirit dreams for a while. They end up making out pretty passionately and Sydney gets scared (mainly because she's certain that they'll break up, and she doesn't want to get any closer to him) and runs away back to school. She tries to throw away the cake, but can't, and eats all of it.

**11. The Other Sydney**

Sydney puts on Adrian's shirt to sleep in and calls him before she goes to bed. After she falls asleep thinking about Adrian, Sydney accidentally enters one of Adrian's real dreams. There, she sees Adrian in bed with "the other Sydney" (a dream version of herself), having sex with her and biting her. Sydney is horrified and runs away, extremely upset, and finds herself in her forest. Though it's difficult for her, she sees her room and her real body through a door in a tree, and is disgusted to see tears on her face. Then she wakes up. She convinces herself that she hates Adrian, that he's a monster, and that there was something evil about the cake he gave her. She tells herself that she hates all dhampirs and Moroi and that she was going to quit the job in a month or two. She tries to throw away Adrian's shirt, but ends up putting it under her bed. She analyzes the container that he had put the cake in and finds the remnant of magic on the plastic. She calls "the monster" and asks him about it, and he admits he used compulsion to make it "more delicious," mentioning that she's too thin. She's furious, and tells him that the relationship is over, and he unhappily accepts her decision.

**12. The Excuses You Come Up With**

Sydney isn't really eating, sleeping, or anything. She's barely functioning. But she tells everyone she's fine and has everything under control, even herself. She finds herself hanging out with Jill despite her promise to herself not to, just because Jill is so sweet and concerned.

**13. I Heart (fill in the blank)**

Sydney visits New York City in a dream with Sonya Karp, who is trying to understand the nature of these weird spirit dreams, and who can tell that Sydney is still madly in love with Adrian. When Sydney wakes up, she has a keychain with Adrian's name on it.

**14. Anger is Easy**

Sydney is waiting outside at Clarence's when Abe shows up and is hilariously inappropriate. He seems to know what's been going on with her and Adrian and tells her that anger is the easiest emotion, because it keeps you from facing anything else. Adrian tries to talk to her but she's really harsh to him, so he tells her he's done with her.

**15. The Other Sydney II**

Adrian is having an awful dream that he's being put into a mental institution for a lobotomy. Sydney finds herself in the dream and can't stop herself from feeling worried and protective. She saves him from the nightmarish images and even heals him a little before he notices that something is odd. She runs away before he can catch her and when he calls to ask if it was her, she denies it, though she isn't quite as mean to him as she had been in the past.

**16. Traction (parts 1-3)**

Sydney tries to get over Adrian by going on a date with the guy who asked her to see a movie with him. He turns out to be a completely boring jerk who tries to take it too far. She ends up using self-defense moves on him, but he sucker-punches her and Eddie comes to help.

**17. You Know Who Isn't Fine?**

While Sydney is still dealing with the fallout from the interaction with Bryan, she runs into Jill, who is acting really oddly. We find out that there was a bad bus accident the day before and that Adrian used a lot of spirit energy trying to help save people's lives. Now he's drowning in spirit darkness, so much so that it's even affecting Jill, who is almost possessed. Sydney realizes she has to help "the monster."

**18. Healing (parts 1-3)**

Sydney goes to Adrian's house and they end up reconciling. Part 1 especially is a pretty sexy scene, I gotta say.

**19. The River that Runs Through Dreams**

Sydney and Adrian have a fun spirit dream, going down a river that is every river. Then um sexytimes again.

**20. More Delightful Than Wine**

In the morning, Sydney cuts her finger and lets Adrian taste her blood. It's a very nice experience for both of them. But they're interrupted by calls from both Eddie and Jill, who imply that something went down between them. (See: "Stay With Me")

**21. You Think You Know**

Jill is reeling from what happened with Eddie, which was a pretty serious make-out session that ended badly. Sydney tries to cheer her up without explicitly telling Jill how much Eddie cares about Jill. Sydney calls Rose to figure out what happened with Eddie in Spokane, thinking that it might have something to do with how Eddie behaves with Jill. Adrian calls to say goodnight.

**22. Awkward All Around**

Jill and Eddie are uncomfortable around each other. Angeline is cranky as always. Eddie is in trouble with some of the guys for pulling Bryan off of Sydney. But at least Sydney and Adrian are getting along again.

**23. Reset**

Adrian can't help but still be a little angry at Sydney for breaking up with him so unfairly. He stands her up for a dream-date, but she finds him. The two of them finally talk it out and get over a lot of their remaining weirdness.

**24. The Show (parts 1-2)**

It's Thursday, the day of Adrian's big art show. Adrian gets Sydney out of school so she can help him set up for the show. While they're at Amberwood they run into Bryan, who tries to attack them. Adrian uses compulsion to overcome Bryan and send him away. Sydney meets a rich, older woman who wants to be Adrian's "patroness" - Adrian turns her down. Sydney has a strange conversation with Ms. Terwiliger about moving through the fourth dimension.

**25. Choices**

Sydney overhears Angeline hitting on Adrian and Adrian's gentle refusal. Adrian takes Sydney to his apartment and shows her the painting of her that he's been working on. He tells her he loves her.

**26. My Adrian**

Sydney and Adrian do much frickety-frack. See also: Do You Trust Me for a dirtier version of the chapter.

**27. Skeletons and Black Boots**

Sydney wakes up and sees a strange painting that Adrian has been hiding from her. It shows her looking painfully thin, almost like a skeleton or zombie. Sydney is uncomfortable with what it means and denies that it has any basis in reality. Adrian is a little annoyed that she looked at the picture without asking, but tries to talk to her about his concerns about how little she eats and how thin she's getting. She gets mad at him and storms away, claiming that he was mean to paint such a picture. But once she has time to cool down, she decides that she wants to go back to apologize. She's on her way to the car when she sees Jill, crying under a tree. They talk for a little bit and then these five men, some of whom have faded alchemist tattoos, grab them.


	35. II: The Forest and the Ax

**Book II: These Three Remain  
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**Chapter 1: The Forest and the Ax **

I looked up.

I was in my pine forest. My head was hurting badly, but the pain came from far away, almost as if my head were in a different place altogether and sending updates via text message. It was hard to think. For a long moment I just took it in: the smell of the pine, the feel of the soft needles under me, and the soothing sounds of the birds and the insects. "Adrian," I thought to myself, through the fog of pain and confusion. "He'll be here soon. He'll heal me. He'll make it so I can think again."

But there was no Adrian. After a while, I tried to sit up and found that the atmosphere was thick, the way it always was in a dream when Adrian wasn't there. I realized that this wasn't a spirit dream, exactly. This was … whatever it was that _I_ did.

Why was I here, in our forest? My head hurt. My _heart_ hurt. Something was really wrong. Where was Adrian? Why wasn't he here with me? I hated trying to dreamwalk without him. And where was my body? I couldn't remember.

"One of these trees…" I muttered out loud, and almost jumped at the sound of my own voice. But in some ways, speaking aloud had made me feel more in control of myself, so I did it again. "One of these trees is the right tree. The tree that will take me to him."

That made sense to me, and I began crawling across the forest floor, looking for the right tree, the tree that had a door in it that led to Adrian. I moved slowly, painfully, through the thick dream air. As I crawled, bits and pieces of memory came back to me. Adrian. Last night. We had made love. It had been... I felt a smile come to my face, even now, here, in this confusing, painful moment. It had been perfect. And he had said he loved me. He was mine. But then... we had fought. Why? Why would I fight with my Adrian? The memory wouldn't come. It wasn't important. I had to get to him. That was why I had come to the forest, after all – to get to Adrian. I knew that with certainty, now. I tried to relax my mind, hoping that the memories would come back with more time. It was just that my head hurt so badly.

I looked down at myself as I continued to crawl and saw that I was wearing Adrian's sweater, which reminded me of something, something sad. His scent, that mixture of cologne, shampoo, and just _him_, came through strongly from the soft fabric, and that brought me comfort. Maybe I should just wake up and find him in the real world, I thought. For a moment I tried to wake up, but I couldn't remember how to do that. The forest seemed to be the entire world to me right now. I began my painful progress across the pine needles again.

After what seemed like an eternity of crawling, I reached a wide tree that seemed familiar. I pulled myself into a standing position in front of it and then leaned my ear against it, listening. I heard… nothing. _No, wait, _I told myself._ Be patient._ That wasn't _nothing_. That was the sound of the ocean, faint, like a suggestion, like watching a TV on mute and imagining the sound. I listened more closely. I knew that sound; it was Adrian's white-noise generator, the one he listened to when he was trying to sleep. Yes, this was the right tree, but there was no door. I felt around the edges, feeling for hinges, a smooth spot, anything. But there was nothing. It was just a tree.

I sank to my knees. I wanted to cry. But I had to get to Adrian. There was a good reason. Something was making me angry. Something was making my head hurt so badly. Something was scaring me.

A whisper of truth crept through me, looking for someone to understand it. That someone, I realized confusedly, was me. Then it was like suddenly understanding the lyrics to a song you've heard a hundred times. I _knew_.

"They came for me," I whispered out loud.

Suddenly, anger flared up inside of me, a fiery rage, stronger than anything else I'd felt in recent memory. I had a life that I loved now, a real one, and if they thought they were going to take it, well, they had another think coming. That would _not_ stand. "The fuckers," I whispered, and almost jumped at the sound of the word. It was the first time in my life I had uttered a swear like that. It felt good, though, in a savage way. I said it again, much more loudly. "The _fuckers_!"

Adrian. I had to get to him. I had to tell him what had happened. He could get help to me. I just had to get through this tree, door or no door. How can you go through a tree when there's no door? "That sounds like the beginning of a riddle," I muttered to myself. "When is a door not a door?" Then I thought of the best way to get through a tree, and smiled as I closed my eyes to concentrate.

When I opened my eyes again, there was an ax in my hand. I was going to go through this tree, no matter what it took. I held the ax high over one shoulder and, remembering what Eddie had taught me about swinging a stick many months ago, I began hacking at the tree. "Sorry, tree," I muttered, as I swung the ax. "You're a beautiful specimen of _Pinus ponderosa_, but I have to get somewhere."

After I got in a few good hacks, I could see a faint coming through the cracks in the bark. I reached my fingers into the crack and began to pull at the sides, like I was trying to open an elevator door that was stuck. The tree gave a little, and I pulled harder. The sound of his white-noise machine got much louder. I shouted Adrian's name, aiming my voice through the crack, and pulled one more time. Nothing happened.

I concentrated as hard as I could, trying to envision the crack widening. When I looked up it had gotten an inch or two wider. This had been so much easier before, when my head didn't hurt so much, when I had been able to _think_. I was becoming more and more certain that those goons had given me a concussion. It was probably a pretty bad one, to judge from the pain and confusion I was experiencing. I waited another minute or two, drawing my strength together, then pulled one more time. The tree gave another inch or two, enough for me to stick my face into it a bit. I called Adrian's name through the crack again.

"Sage?" I heard Adrian's voice, and then saw him, running up to the crack in the tree. He reached out his hand to me through the crack and I grabbed it gratefully. The second our hands met, the tree opened wide enough for Adrian to pull me through. I sort of fell into his arms and he held me to him. "Sweetheart," he whispered in my ear. "I've been trying to find you for hours. Where have you been?"

For a moment, I just leaned against him, happy to be in his arms, too exhausted to think clearly or answer his question. Finally, I asked, "Is this a dream or is it real?" I looked behind me at the hole that I had walked through. It had closed up a bit, but there was still a big gash in the wall with light streaming through it, and the faint sound of insects and birds could be heard.

"It's a dream," Adrian said, beginning to move us slowly over to his bed. "I was in my room getting dressed when I felt you calling for me. It was weird – it was almost like I could hear you shouting and banging on the wall. But I was so glad to hear from you that I didn't care what was going on. I slipped into the dream as fast as I could." We sat down on the edge of his bed, side by side. He took my hand.

"We had a fight last night," I said. "I wanted to apologize. I was on my way to your apartment just now. Are you mad? Can I apologize now or is it too late?"

"Don't worry about anything, Sage, "he said, his voice soothing. "It's fine. That doesn't matter right now. Where are you really? What's going on?"

"They got me," I said. I hated the note of defeat in my voice, but I was too tired and in too much pain to be brave right now. I leaned my head on Adrian's shoulder, and he put an arm around me. "I was on my way to you and they got me. Then I couldn't find you in the forest..."

"The guardians got you?"

"What?" I said, surprised. Why would the _guardians_ get me? "No, it was the alchemists. I think. Well, some of them were alchemists, anyway."

"Are the alchemists working with the guardians?"

"What?" I said again. "I'm confused. I think I have a concussion. Nothing you're saying is making sense."

"Oh, sweetheart," he said, and pulled me tighter. I realized he was naked, and wondered how it had taken me this long to notice. I guess I really was concussed. He leaned back a little to look me over. "Yes, there's something wrong with you," he said, looking at something over my head, my aura probably. Then he put his hands on my head and I felt faint waves of warmth and coolness flow through me. He was trying to heal me, I realized, but it didn't seem to be working. "I can't do much from here," he said, thoughtfully, a few moments later. "This is a physical problem, and your body is too far away. Did they hit you on the head or something?"

"Yes," I said, remembering. "There were five of them. Jill and I put up quite a fight. Eddie would have been proud of us." I smiled a little, remembering some of the more satisfying punches I had landed. "But there were five of them, and they were a lot bigger than we were. Jill tried to use her magic, but the water was too far away—"

"They have Jailbait, too?" Adrian interrupted. "Is that where she is?"

"Yes," I said. "I didn't tell you? They have both of us."

"Where are you now?"

"I don't know. They knocked me out in the parking lot. I'd have to guess that we're in a car at the moment, but for all I know, we already arrive at our destination. Or maybe we've been separated by now. Can the guardians come rescue me, do you think? I know I'm not Moroi but something tells me this isn't exactly alchemist business..."

"Rescue you? Sage, they'll probably shoot you on sight."

"I'm so confused," I said again. "I hate having a concussion." I wrinkled my nose. "It's not good to be asleep with a concussion, right? I should try to wake up. But I don't know how to. I could barely get out of the forest. I just knew I had to find you..."

"Hmm," Adrian said. He thought for a moment, stroking my face and looking at my aura. "Well," he said then, "I do have one idea. Let's work together on this. I'll try to heal you, and while I do, you can try to sort of... amplify my power, like you do in spirit dreams."

"I can't do that now," I said, in a near-whimper. "My head hurts too much. And I can't do magic."

"You can do anything you want to do," Adrian said, fervently. "I've seen you. You do impossible things three or four times a day. It's practically the Sydney Sage motto. Come on. Look at me."

Our eyes met, and he gave me a look of trust and admiration so strong, it was almost like compulsion, convincing me that I could do what he was asking me to do. "You're the magic feather," I said, and my voice seemed to come from miles away. I took his hands, and when the healing energy came toward me again, I tried to "tune in" to Adrian's power. I thought about my own body, wherever it was, and tried to use my dream body as a bridge between his power and my real body. It seemed to help, since after a minute or so, my confused thoughts began to clear, and the pain in my head lessened significantly.

"That was so weird," I said. "I felt like a power wire."

"Do you feel better?"

"Much." I wondered if somewhere, my captors were watching bruises disappear and wounds close. I hoped they were. I hoped it scared them.

Adrian kissed my forehead. "I wish we had time to just cuddle up in bed and let you heal," he said. "But we don't really have time. We have to find out where you really are and rescue you."

I agreed, then asked, "What did you mean when you said that the guardians would shoot me?"

He sighed. "They think you kidnapped Jailbait."

"What?"

"I know," Adrian said. "It made no sense to me either. Look, tell me your version of the story. Then I'll tell you what I know from my end, and we'll try to figure out what's going on."

"Ok," I said. It only took a minute or two to explain what had happened to me, and to Jill, since the last time I had seen him. Adrian took it all in, quietly. I saw his hands ball up into fists when I described the attack in the parking lot, and that surprised me a little, since Adrian was not a violent guy. When I was done talking, he paused for a moment, as if collecting his thoughts. I looked over at the wall. The gash I had left when I had come through the tree was still there, and I felt like from time to time I could still catch a whiff of pine needles and hear a strain of crickets and birds.

"Where was Castile in all of this?" Adrian asked, when he spoke again. "What did Jailbait say?"

I thought back. "She says they were kissing in her room pretty late," I said. "Then he ran off. I don't know what he did after that. Why do you ask?"

"Because there's something weird going on with him," Adrian answered.

"Tell me the story from the beginning," I said, then added, "please."

"Ok," Adrian said, a slight quirk of a smile on his face. "After you left, I lay back down, but I couldn't sleep, even with my white-noise generator. I was way too worked up."

"I'm sorry," I said, embarrassed.

"Doesn't matter now," Adrian said, a little brusquely. "Anyway. At about 7 or so I guess, I sent you a text, asking you to just text me that you had gotten home safe. And then I called you at 8 or so, but you didn't answer. I knew that you were angry, but I still thought you'd answer the phone, even to just tell me to fuck off or something. And then at 8:30 or so, I got a weird text from Castile. It said, 'Sorry I failed you and everyone else.' Soooo... that was weird."

"Sorry he failed us?" I repeated, feeling almost as confused as I had been when I was concussed.

"Yeah, weird, huh?" Adrian said. "So, I said to myself, 'Self,' I said, 'something has gone very, very wrong.' And then, it got _worse_. Two guardians and two alchemists came to my apartment at about nine. They wanted to know where you were, but they wouldn't tell me why. And then, funny thing – for some reason, they got the impression that I was completely hungover and that there were two Moroi girls in my bedroom. " He grinned at me. I could see his fangs a little when he smiled like that. It was sort of cute. "They soon determined that I had no idea where you were and that, furthermore, I didn't really care. And then for some reason, they got really chatty and told me everything that had been going on."

"I wonder why," I said, smiling.

"Can't begin to guess, myself," he said. "Apparently, according to my oddly chatty new friends, little Jailbait wasn't in her bed this morning, and the guardians and the alchemists got an anonymous phone tip that you were in on her disappearance – that you sold her out to anti-royalists for a massive cash payout."

I was stunned. "What? Why would anyone believe that? I'm not that kind of person. Anyone who knows me knows that."

"It wasn't just the tip," Adrian said, glumly. "Castile is confirming it."

"Eddie?" I asked, incredulous.

"He isn't making any sense," Adrian said. "The guardians are questioning him over in Los Angeles. Apparently, he's saying that a band of goons took her right from him this morning, and that you left with them, at about 6:30 in the morning. He says he tried to fight them off, but that they got away, with your help."

"Is he hurt?" I pictured him bleeding somewhere in an emergency room, being questioned from his hospital bed.

"Well," Adrian said, "apparently, he shows signs of having been in a fight – he has a split lip and a few bruises – but he's not hurt that badly. He was able to call the guardians and tell them that Jill had been taken, and they came all the faster because they had already been tipped off that something was going down."

Something about all of that struck me as odd, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I decided to think more about it later. "Interesting that Eddie said it happened at 6:30," I said, slowly. "That's about the time that we were actually taken. Eddie wasn't anywhere in sight. I mean, not that we noticed." I paused. "Wait, what time is it now?"

"It's about 11," Adrian said.

"11 in the morning or..."

"Morning, don't worry, Sage." He squeezed me. "I've been listening for you for hours. I couldn't find you anywhere, though after a while I began to sense that you were asleep somewhere, just out of reach."

"So I've been out cold for almost five hours," I said. "I guess you couldn't reach me because of the concussion." I wondered how long I had been in the forest, inching along the pine needles. Seconds? Hours? Then a thought struck me, distracting me a little. "Where's Angeline?"

Adrian sighed heavily. "Good question. She was in her room this morning, asleep, when the guardians went checking for Jill. This was after Castile had called them telling them that Jill had been taken. Angeline swears that she didn't see or hear anything, and there's a small bottle that the alchemists recognized as a sleeping potion on her bedside table. So the theory is that you gave Angeline a potion to make her sleep" – here I let out an aggrieved snort – "and then lured Jailbait out, either by force or using alchemist magic..."

"Technology," I corrected, automatically.

"Alchemist 'technology' then," Adrian said, using air-quotes. "And then you took Jailbait to your... posse, or whatever... and then ran into Eddie I guess, and had a fight or something, and then ran off, all squealing tires and evil laughter, into the rising sun, with poor Jailbait as your captive."

I mulled that over. If I was being honest with myself, I guess that as the story went, it made a certain amount of sense. Or at the very least, I could see how the story would have made sense to a group of Moroi who didn't know me and a group of alchemists who didn't trust me. "Have you talked to Eddie or Angeline?" I asked.

"Just Angeline," Adrian said. "She called _me_, actually. She asked if I was ok. I told her I was fine and asked her what she knew about Jill and you being gone. She didn't say much, just asked again if I was ok, and said that she had heard about the tip. I thought that was weird, because the only reason I knew anything about the tip is that I had made those extremely chatty friends." We exchanged looks, and then Adrian went on. "She seemed worried that the alchemists or guardians would be giving me trouble. She didn't count on me to have my own self-defense system in place."

I smiled and kissed his cheek, and then we sat in silence for a moment. "So let's run this all down," I said after I had thought a little. "My body is probably in a car somewhere being driven somewhere. Jill is being taken somewhere too. Someone called the alchemists to say that I'm the one who masterminded all of this, and for some reason, Eddie is confirming that tip. So I'm _persona non grata_ to the guardians at this point, I guess. Or worse. I'm..."

"Undesirable Number One," Adrian supplied. "For sure."

"Meanwhile," I said, "Eddie's unreachable, in all meanings of the word, and Angeline is..."

"Possibly the source of the tip," Adrian said, through gritted teeth.

"At the very least, she's hardly a fan of either me or Jill," I said, but I thought that Adrian could very well be right. "The jerks who have us captive have a five hour head start. And there's no one you can turn to for help."

"Rose will help if she can," Adrian said. "She's your friend."

"But she's on the other side of the country," I said. "And well, if Eddie's had his memories modified - and it looks like he has - then maybe Rose has as well."

"Oh," Adrian said, thoughtfully. "Yeah. Things do look a bit dire at the moment. We're practically friendless, you're captive, we have few resources, and we don't know where you are. But." He grinned at me. "I am not giving up hope. I am going to find you, Sydney. There is nowhere on this planet that they can hide you from me for long. I will do whatever it takes to get you back. These assholes won't know what hit them." He kissed me then, briefly, with an intensity that threatened to take over both our senses, but we both backed off before it went too far. "The thing I'm wondering is," Adrian added, slightly out of breath, "who are these guys? Are they the evil reprogramming police you've been worried about?"

"Well," I said, "I don't think they're actually alchemists, or at least, not active with the organization. For one thing, if the alchemists took us, why would they be questioning you as to my whereabouts? Wouldn't they know?"

"Maybe they're just trying to play along, make the story look plausible? Cooperate with the guardians, when they know all along where you are?"

"Maybe," I said. "It's possible. But that still wouldn't explain why some of the guys who took me have lily tattoos and some don't. Alchemists are a secretive group. They don't exactly cooperate with non-alchemists. Plus, their tattoos..." I added, thinking out loud.

"What about them?"

"They were really faded. I get mine touched up once a year. These guys looked like they hadn't had theirs touched up for at least two years."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know for sure," I said. "It suggests that they left the organization, but doesn't prove it. Still, I think it's important."

We sat there for a while longer, but couldn't think of anything else to add to these thoughts.

"Well," Adrian said after a few moments. "The most important thing is for us to try to figure out where you are. We can worry about who took you later, after we get you back."

"True," I said. "I guess I should go wake up."

"Me too," Adrian said. "I'll try to think of something while you scout around and see what's going on with your body, and then we can meet up again in a short while."

"Sounds like a plan," I said.

I must have sounded pretty miserable because Adrian gave me a hug and said in my ear, "Don't be afraid. Like I said, they can't hide me from you."

"Ok," I said. "I guess... I better go, then." I looked around at Adrian's bedroom. I tried to ignore the gash in the wall and to instead focus on the familiar things that I loved: the paintings in the corners, his black silk sheets, a few empty containers of ice cream. And most of all, Adrian himself. Then I braced myself to do what I had to do.

I started to focus my energy on waking up but Adrian pulled me to him suddenly and squeezed me tight. "God, I don't want to let you go," he said. "I know we have to wake up and stuff, but oh, Sydney." He pressed kisses all over my face, and I closed my eyes and took it all in, as if I could maybe save these kisses for later if I just concentrated hard enough. When I looked at him again, I saw tears in his green eyes. He was scared, I realized. I was, too. "I love you," he said.

I opened my mouth, meaning to say the words that were bouncing around in my head, but I still couldn't. _Even now? _the Traitor opined, from deep inside my brain._ What is wrong with you?_ "I don't know," I thought back at myself. "I know how I feel about him. But still..." But still. All I could do was kiss him again and whisper, "Oh, my Adrian."

He smiled at me, wanly. "Go wake up, sweetheart. Check in with me when you can. I'll keep 'listening' for you. But for now I have to let you wake up."

"Don't let anyone modify your memories," I said, and the fear came through in my voice.

"Impossible," Adrian said. "I'm kind of a big deal, you know."

"Ok," I said. I took a deep breath, kissed him one more time, and closed my eyes.

Then I woke up.


	36. II: Cars, Calls, & Calculations

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 2: Cars, Calls, and Calculations**

I was lying on my left side, and my cheek was pressed against some kind of rough carpeting. I heard a motor running, very softly, and the consistent quiet whoosh of road noise, so I knew that I was in a moving vehicle. My head hurt a little – Adrian must not have been able to heal me completely – and my right cheek felt sticky with blood. My hands were tied behind my back at the wrist, and my legs were bound at the ankle. Within moments of waking up, I began to get that pins-and-needles feeling in my hands and feet, and I knew that my circulation was being compromised by the ties. I tried not to think about it.

I cautiously opened my eyes and found that I was in the cargo area of a large vehicle, probably an SUV, the kind with a hatchback and a large rear window. I was lying facing the window, but it was too high up for me to really see out. Also, all the windows were tinted, so there was no way that anyone driving behind the car would be able to see me, either. I did the best I could to move around a little to get a better look, hoping to see anything that might serve as a landmark – a road sign, a building, a notable type of landscape, anything. Unfortunately, there was nothing but sky, occasional traffic lights, and, on the right side of the car, a set of power lines that undulated through my view.

Resigned, I looked back down. That was when I noticed was that I was still wearing Adrian's cashmere sweater. I wondered if my captors had realized that I was wearing a vampire's clothing. Probably not, I thought, considering that I still was wearing it. I crossed one of my fingers and hoped that I would be able to keep the sweater. I liked having it with me, soft against my arms, still smelling faintly of Adrian's _Noir de Noir_.

"So," I thought to myself. "Let's run this down. Assets: decent intelligence, occasional mental link with a helpful vampire, and a bit of self-defense training." I paused, then added: "And a cashmere sweater." I wracked my brain, but that seemed to be the end of it, so I went on. "Liabilities: A bit of a concussion. Hands tied behind back. In a car within a group of hostile unknowns, going to an unknown location for an unknown, but no doubt unpleasant, purpose." I frowned. The liabilities seemed to be winning the day.

Of course, the link to Adrian represented a whole host of potential assets. And Adrian himself was something. I wouldn't let fear overcome me, even though there were a lot of reasons to be afraid. I forced myself to breathe calmly and carefully, focusing on the thought of Adrian, and the thought of rescue. I imagined him with me, stroking my hair, cracking jokes, and just generally making everything seem OK.

Then I zoned out for a while, listening to the lovely muted purr of the engine. The car ran so smoothly that at times I almost didn't know it was running at all. In fact, sometimes it was only the power-lines speeding by that confirmed we were moving. I was just wondering what kind of muffler the car utilized when we came to a stop at a red light. When the light turned green again, the engine roared loudly as the car accelerated to full speed in a matter of seconds. "What on earth?" I thought, my stomach lurching slightly from the change in velocity. This car was nearly silent in motion, but it was as loud and ostentatious as a Harley Davidson during acceleration. It had some serious horsepower, and while I wasn't into muscle cars exactly, I still was fascinated by the dichotomy.

I had barely had time to begin mentally listing the necessary engine modifications for such an arrangement when a slightly whiny male voice spoke suddenly, startling me. "This road is shitty," he said. He sounded sort of close to me, and I figured that he was in the back seat. "I hate havin' to stop for red lights and shit."

"Shut up and enjoy the lovely scenery," replied a slightly familiar voice, from further away, probably the front seat. Where had I heard that voice before? I couldn't quite place it.

"Come on, man," said the whiner. "We already have to stop for gas and stuff. If we keep havin' to stop for lights, and keep gettin' stuck behind slow cars and everything, we'll be driving all night."

"Would you prefer me to run the red lights?" said a very soft voice from the front seat. I had to strain to hear him. "I can run the red lights if you don't mind getting rid of any cops who pull us over."

"Nah, it's alright," answered Whiner, subdued.

Silence fell in the car again, but my mind began to race. _"Get rid of"_? That's what the soft voice had said, I was sure of it. And those words sealed it for me – golden tattoos or no, these men were definitely _not _alchemists. Our organization had hooks in every human authority in every country on earth. If an alchemist ever were pulled over by the police while on official alchemist business, all he or she had to do was to show specific identification to get out of it. There would not be any reason for violence, and certainly no reason to break the sixth commandment: _Thou shalt not kill_. A little shiver ran up my back as I thought about it. What made them any better than Strigoi, if they would kill a policemen who stopped them for running a red light?

It was too awful to think about. My mind, fuzzy with the concussion and with fear, began to wander again, to nicer things. Adrian. Porto. The pine forest. Coffee. My car, Latte. Poor Latte, I thought fleetingly. I wondered if I'd ever see it again. It hadn't been my choice of car, for sure, but it had been reliable and predictable, something that most people weren't. And I had enjoyed being its driver, for the time that we were together.

And that reminded me of another problem that had been teasing me from the edge of my brain. Once I figured out where I was, Adrian would want to come follow me. But not only did he need a car, he needed a _driver_. After all, he would need to be able to go to sleep frequently on the trip so that he could contact me via spirit dreams as often as possible. And where could he get a car and a driver? Eddie was out of the picture, apparently. It would be unethical, and impractical, for Adrian to use compulsion to force a stranger to drive him. Once he was asleep, it was likely that the compulsion would wear off and he'd be in the car with an angry driver. So, I decided, it would have to be someone who was willing to help him anyway. Who did I know who had a car and who would be willing to go off on an insane road trip with Adrian? I ran through my short list of friends and acquaintances and then smiled. I knew just the perfect person to ask.

I was just thinking through how to explain the plan to Adrian when the whiny voice spoke again: "I am bored shitless. Couldn't we listen to the radio or somethin'?"

"Whatever," said the familiar voice from the front seat, and he switched the radio on. Immediately, it was obvious that this car was outfitted with some serious speakers, including subwoofers. I couldn't hear the engine anymore. Heck, I couldn't even hear myself _think_. An agonizing few minutes followed, during which the three men – if there were more people in the car, they didn't speak – argued about which station to listen to (all options were extremely annoying) and the appropriate volume (always various shades of loud). Thankfully, after a little while, the familiar voice, apparently their leader, announced that he was going to just turn the radio off since they couldn't agree on anything. "Besides," he added. "The radio might wake up the bitch in the back, and I don't feel like dealing with her."

As he spoke those words, I was able to finally place the voice. It was the first man who had spoken to me in the parking lot last night – the man with the ugly gold cross. I could picture him clearly: About 5'10, sandy hair, big nose, wearing all black. When I made that connection, another one followed. The quiet voiced one, I realized, was the one who had referred to Jill as a creature. He had had darker hair, and was a bit taller, maybe 6 feet even, and had also had a sort of big nose. It had been really satisfying to punch that big nose of his. I wondered if he had a black eye. I smiled to myself again. I might not have any idea where the car was going, but at least I had some notion as to who was in the car with me.

But that was the last of the clue-gathering that I was able to do for a while, because the men lapsed into silence, and the view I had from my window still didn't explain a thing. I started to wonder if maybe I should just go back to sleep and tell Adrian that the only thing I knew was that we were on a minor road near a power-line. I had just come to the conclusion that this wouldn't help matters at all when the car began driving at a slower speed, as if we were in heavy traffic. I could hear Whiner shuffling about in his leather-upholstered seat in an annoyed sort of way. We sat in nearly stopped traffic for a few minutes, and then Whiner whined, "Seriously, this road fucking sucks. Are we just going to take 395 the whole way?"

_Ah-ha,_ I thought. _We're on 395. That's all I needed. Thank you, Whiner! _

"The Garmin says to take 395," said Gold Cross. "I trust the Garmin."

I heard the rustling of paper from the seat in front of me as Whiner spoke up again. "Well, according to the map, in a few miles, we could maybe get on the 58 and take it over to 99 or maybe Highway 5." My ears perked up. This was getting better and better!

"That's really far west of where we're going," said Gold Cross. "Why would we do that?"

"It looks like a much better road, you know? I think 395 is just one lane each way the whole time," Whiner explained. "Highway 5 is huge. Plus then we don't have to cross state lines at all on the way."

"I'm not going miles out of our way just for a highway," Gold Cross answered. "It probably has traffic too. And I'm not deviating from what the Garmin says. Besides, who gives a shit about state lines? It's not like it's the border with Mexico or something."

"I just thought..." said Whiner, subdued.

"Don't _think_," said the softer voice from the front seat, unexpectedly. And then they all stopped talking for a while.

The silence gave me time to mentally scribble down everything I had heard. I repeated the details again and again during the long pause that followed, not wanting to forget anything. I didn't know what it all meant. It seemed odd that one road would cross a state line, while an acceptable alternate route wouldn't. I resolved to let Adrian figure it out, and tried to relax my body into sleep so I could tell him what I'd learned. Unfortunately, a few minutes later, Whiner spoke up again, startling me from the slight doze I'd begun to fall into.

"We'd probably go faster on a big highway is all," he said. "There's still time to get on the 58..."

"We'll go fast enough as it is," Gold Cross replied. "I'm not changing the route, and that's final. Besides, the Garmin says we'll be there by 9 o'clock or so. That's plenty soon enough. We don't even open until 8. And most people are more excited about the other one arriving at the elephants. They won't care about Sage."

There was that mention of "the elephants" again, which I couldn't even begin to fathom. As for 'the other one', it almost certainly had to mean Jill. I interlaced my fingers and sent up a quick prayer that she was still OK. I also wondered what Gold Cross had meant by "we don't open until 8." What kind of evil organization keeps specific hours?

Gold Cross was still talking. "They're still bringing you-know-who out to deal with _her_" – and I assumed from his emphasis that he meant me – "but _he_ won't even get out to the truck for a few days yet. So there's no hurry getting her there."

What on earth was "the truck"? Were we all going to stay in a truck somewhere? That didn't seem likely. I filed the information away to deal with later. At the moment it made no sense.

The quieter voice spoke from the front seat. "He creeps me out."

"Who?" asked Gold Cross

"You know who," said the quiet voice, and then said something I couldn't hear.

"He creeps us all out," said Whiner.

"It's a necessary evil," said Gold Cross. "The enemy of my enemy..."

"Yeah, I guess," agreed Whiner.

A short silence followed, and then Gold Cross noted that they were almost out of gas.

"Second time we've had to stop. Shitty mileage in this car," muttered Whiner, quietly enough that those in the front seat could ignore him.

A few minutes later, I felt the car pull to a halt. Doors opened and closed, and the smell of gasoline entered the car. I listened with interest as the men went about refilling the tank, curious about the gas intake system of this vehicle. The car refueled from the left side, which suggested that it probably wasn't a European-made car or a Ford. The 20 gallons of gas the guys put into the tank suggested that this was quite a gas guzzler, which was consistent with its muscular engine. My mind began making a spreadsheet of possibilities. What _was_ this car?

When we got back on the road, it seemed clear that none of the men was in a talking mood anymore, which meant, thank heaven, that it was time to go to sleep. I rolled back onto my side, then I forced myself to relax each muscle – well, each muscle that I _could_ relax – one at a time, and listened to the rhythmic whoosh of the road going by underneath the chassis. As sleep began to claim me, I focused on Adrian: his voice, his smile, his eyes...

I looked up.

There were pine boughs above me. I looked down to see a soft carpet of pine needles underfoot. I was back in my forest. I took a deep grateful breath, then looked around. The ax was sitting a few feet away, next to the tree with a huge gash in it. I took a step forward, towards the tree.

"Adrian?" I called, peering into the gash.

"I'm here, Sage," he replied from behind me, startling me a little.

I whirled around and ran into his arms, making a stupidly happy noise that sounded sort of like, "Yeee!" I would have been embarrassed about it, but I was just too glad to see him.

"Where are you?" he asked. "Are you okay? What's going on? I've been waiting. It's been over half an hour!" His words came out in a rush, and I realized that he was as anxious as I was.

"I'm in a car, I'm tied up in the back, I seem to be OK I guess," I said, just as quickly. "And I think I know where we're going to."

"You amazing girl," he said with a grin. "Tell me."

I quickly told him all the details that I had heard about our route and destination. As I talked, Adrian absently took one of my hands and ran a very gentle finger over one of the blisters that I was getting from the awful ropes the goons had used to tie my hands behind my back. He took each wrist up to his lips and kissed each blister, and I felt the now-familiar waves of warm and cold run through my arm as Adrian healed me. I didn't stop talking, but I didn't stop him from helping me, either. I needed the help. I needed him.

When I was done explaining, Adrian repeated all the details back to me until we were both sure he had it right.

"I actually think I understand what's going on," Adrian said. "I took a road trip up to San Francisco in the winter, with some kids I met in LA. This was before... me and you," he added, hurriedly. "Anyway, we took Highway 5 part of the way even though later on we had to switch to a different road, just because 5 is so much faster. I bet you anything your whiner is right. I'm not exactly sure where you are – I mean, I'll look at a map when I wake up – but I think I can just go up on highway 5, and catch up to you guys pretty easy."

"Ok," I said. "Good plan." I kissed him on the cheek, then asked. "By the way, where are you now? Has anyone come back for you?"

"I'm still home," he told me. "No one's bothered me. While I was waiting, I've been raising cash. I was thinking that if you didn't get in touch with me in the next ten minutes or so, I'd start to head over to LA, to try to get Eddie. But now I can just follow you." He pulled me into a tight hug. "I wish I could stay with you for a while, sweetheart, but I really can't," he said, speaking softly near my ear. "I've got to hit the road. I have enough information to make a start, and you can tell me more as you find stuff out." He leaned away from me. "So... I better..."

"Wait," I said, interrupting him.

"What?"

"You need a car, right?"

"I was just going to just rent one," Adrian said.

"Well, you don't just need a car," I pointed out. "You need a driver, too."

"I can drive, Sage!" said Adrian, a little impatiently.

"I know that," I said. "But you need to be able to sleep and dream during the trip, so you can stay in touch with me."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "OK, out with it, Sage. What's your plan?"

I paused, thinking of how to explain, then said, "If I give you a phone number, can you remember it long enough to call it when you wake up?"

"I think so," he said. "I'll try. Who would I be calling?"

"Remember my friend Julia? Hangs out with a girl named Kristina?"

Adrian put his head to the side for a moment in thought. "I think I do," he said. "Nice girl."

"Well, she has a car, and..."

"And you think she'll agree to go on some crazy road trip of doom with me?" Adrian was smiling, but I could sense his uncertainty. I guess it was a slightly weird idea.

"Yes, I think she will," I said, with a bit more certainty than I felt. "First, she's my friend, and second, she has a massive crush on you." Adrian raised an eyebrow, but didn't interrupt. "You always say it's easier to use compulsion on people who want to be convinced, right? It'll be easy to convince her to drive you anywhere you want to go. I mean, you probably won't even have to use compulsion at all, so she won't change her mind the minute you go to sleep and leave her on her own."

"Hmm," Adrian said, clearly surprised by the idea.

"I know you can convince her, and I know you can get Maryann and Rita to let her off from school. It's Friday, right?" Adrian nodded. "So, she has tomorrow off anyway. Call her and have her come get you. She'll probably be thrilled you called. Just, promise me that once you're pretty close to catching up with me, you'll send her home so she isn't in any danger. You can get some other car then, somehow. And... we'll do something really nice for Julia, as soon as we get back to... you know, civilization."

Adrian started to say something, stopped, looked thoughtful for a second, and then gave me a wide smile. "You know what?" he said. "I trust you, Sage. I'm just going to go with your mad plan." He kissed my cheek. "Why not? You generally have good ideas."

"She's perfect, I promise," I said.

"I told you, I trust you," he said. He grinned even more widely. "And you don't mind me driving around with a girl who has a crush on me?"

"Not in the least," I said, in a business-like tone. "I trust _you _too_._ Now listen, there's one more thing. Remember to ask Julia to get my alchemist kit out of the back seat of my car before she comes over to get you. She knows Latte, and she's seen my kit before. You can tell her it's the bag of stuff that I used when Kristina had the bad reaction to the tattoo that time."

"How will she get in to your car?" Adrian asked. "Isn't it locked?"

"I have a spare key in a little metal case stuck up behind the left back wheel. The code to open the case is 314. You know, pi."

"Of course," said Adrian, with an affectionate laugh.

"So, are you ready for Julia's phone number?"

I was afraid that it would be difficult to teach Adrian the number, but he made it into a sort of tuneless little song and learned it fairly quickly. Then he pulled me into a quick tight hug and gave me a kiss on the lips. "OK, Sydney, here I go," he said. "I'll call you from the road."

I smiled at his turn of phrase. "I'll miss you," I said. It was an understatement.

"Not for long," he said. He gave me one more kiss and said, "I'll see you soon." He closed his eyes, and then opened them again. "Hang on," he said. "What kind of car are you in? Just in case I can't contact you again, I'd like to know what I'm following."

"I don't know for sure," I said. "Some kind of big fancy SUV. Probably American or Japanese made. Something with a hatchback. But I can only see the trunk, so it's hard to be sure..."

"But from the trunk, you can tell it's an American or Japanese made SUV?" Adrian said, shaking his head in apparent disbelief. "You're kind of amazing."

"I'm not sure," I said. "I might be wrong on that."

"Well, maybe you'll notice something weird about the design in the carpeting," Adrian said. "Or you'll hear a weird rattle in the engine, or something. I bet you can figure it out. I believe in you."

I smiled. "I'll try," I said.

"And you'll succeed," he said.

We hugged and kissed one more time, as quickly as we could, both of us aware that time was ticking, but loathe to say goodbye. Then he closed his eyes and disappeared, leaving me alone in the forest. With him gone, the forest air became heavier and thicker, the way it always did when I was alone in a spirit dream. But it was still a heck of a lot better than being in my body right now, so I gave myself permission to just have a few minutes of rest here before I woke back up again.

What did I want most right now? Hmmm. I closed my eyes, then opened them to see a cute green mug full of coffee sitting on a nearby stump. It turned out to be delicious, if I do say so myself. When I was done drinking the coffee, I spent a few minutes stretching, doing a few yoga poses and practicing a few self-defense moves. Then I closed my eyes and concentrated for a minute. When I opened them, there was a pretty little bathroom sink with bright copper fixtures standing, cheerful and incongruous, a few feet away from the tree with the huge gash in it. I used the sink to wash my face and brush my teeth, just wanting to feel more clean and awake.

"That's better," I said, drying my face off with a fluffy black towel that was hanging off the side of a tree branch. Then I closed my eyes, ready to go back into my body, ready to collect more clues about the car and our destination. "I'm a professional," I whispered to myself. "I can _do_ this. I can do _anything_."

And I woke up again.

"-still breathin'," a voice was saying as I returned to my body. It was Whiner. His voice was louder than it had been, and I realized that he must be facing me. "I'll check her pulse."

"Don't bother," Gold Cross answered. "If you can see her breathing, she's obviously alive."

"OK, OK, you don't have to jump down my throat," said Whiner, and I could tell he was facing the other direction again.

"But she's still asleep?" Gold Cross asked.

"Out cold," confirmed Whiner, and that seemed to be the end of the conversation, and the end of the guys' conversation in general.

In fact, for the next hour or so, the ride was about as peaceful as it could be, considering my continued discomfort. At least my wrists didn't hurt as much as they had before. I wriggled around so that I could look out through the sun roof, and then I stared up at the bright blue sky, thinking. I heard the faint sounds of a cell phone game from the backseat, and I knew what was keeping Whiner occupied. Gold Cross and Quiet seemed to be happy to drive along in silence. And I... I was putting clues together.

I listened some more to the engine. The muted sound during cruise, coupled with that throaty roar at acceleration, was an unusual combination. I had a chance to listen to a few more accelerations, and found myself thinking that it was definitely a HEMI engine, probably a 6.1 or 6.4 liter. Then there was the sub-woofer, the leather seats, and the sunroof. Tons of tiny details, but what it all added up to was that this vehicle was tricked out like a luxury car, but it had a sports car engine and an SUV body. That didn't fit a lot of possibilities. In fact, I could really only think of one.

I was still mulling this over when Gold Cross spoke up.

"Sign says this'll be the last gas for 27 miles," he said. "I think we should stop."

"Are we low?" asked the quiet voice.

"We're not _that_ low, but you never know, if it's 27 miles until the next gas..." Gold Cross let the sentence trail off.

"Yeah, let's stop," agreed the quiet voice. "I'd like to get a coffee anyway."

"I'm not paying this time," said Whiner, suddenly and vehemently.

"Excuse me?" said Gold Cross. His tone was dangerous, and I was suddenly glad that I wasn't Whiner.

"Well, I got the last one," Whiner said, subdued. "You or Dave should get this one." I surmised that 'Dave' was the quiet-voiced one who sat in the front.

Gold Cross appeared to consider this. "Do you still have that credit card Dad gave you?" he said. He was apparently talking to Dave, because that's who answered him with a "yes." I formed one of my aching hands into a fist in my best approximation of a "YES!" movement. Gold Cross and Dave were apparently brothers! This was potentially useful information.

"Fine, Joe," said Gold Cross. "Dave will get this one, just to be nice."

"I'll even throw in a coffee for each of us," said Dave quietly. "Because that's the kind of guy I am." There was a coldness to his voice that made me shiver.

"Thanks," said Joe the Whiner. "I'll um, be happy to go get them for all of us, since you're buyin'."

We pulled over into some sort of rest area and Gold Cross stayed in the car while Dave filled up the tank and Joe fetched their coffees. Then we drove a few meters away from the fill-up area, probably to a less crowded section, and the guys all got out to walk around. And for a moment, I was alone in the car. With no one in there but me, it seemed like a much nicer car. A friendly car, maybe. It probably didn't like being driven by someone as awful as Gold Cross. Of course, it was an inanimate object, incapable of human feeling, but still. If a plant can respond to Mozart music, can't a car prefer one driver to another?

"You're getting soft, Sage," I muttered to myself. "You're hanging out with that pretty Moroi boy too much." And I smiled.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps coming towards the car and closed my eyes. Someone opened the hatch, and a rush of fresh air came at me. I realized that, maybe from the rolling round I'd done, I was much closer to the edge of the trunk than I had been before, and I hoped that no one would notice. I also realized that in this position, I could potentially peek out and see the license plate of the car. As long as I just had a few seconds...

"Still sleeping," a voice said, loudly. It was Joe. "For a second I thought... But she's still out cold. Should I test the ties, make sure they haven't come loose?"

As he spoke, I could tell he was looking behind him, because his voice wasn't aimed at me. I opened my eyes very slightly to confirm that he was looking away, then I craned my neck up and forward a fraction of an inch and looked down towards where the license plate should be. I couldn't see anything but the bumper. I put my head back down, disappointed.

"They're not loose," replied Gold Cross, from a few feet away. "I tied them myself."

"Yeah, but she's moved around a little," said Joe, still looking behind him. "She might have just wriggled them loose a tiny bit."

I scootched an inch closer to the edge of the car, knowing that I was taking a huge risk. But this might be the only chance I had. _Come on, Joe. Look away for a minute..._

"Fine, check then, if you really want to," called Gold Cross.

"I won't if you don't want me to," Joe said.

I checked that he was still looking away, then I stretched my neck up and forward and sneaked another peak. I only looked for a second, and I still couldn't see the license plate. But this time I could see a few interesting things. One was a glimpse of a small stripe of midnight blue paint. The other was the exhaust pipe – or pipes, rather. There were two of them, next to each other, like a double cherry. I relaxed back onto the trunk floor and closed my eyes completely, fighting a smile. This was the next best thing to seeing the plate number. This was the last piece of the puzzle.

"No, no, be my guest," Gold Cross said.

"I will," said Joe. I heard him put something down near me, and then felt his cold fingers running over my wrists. He seemed more interested in checking my pulse than checking the ties, and that puzzled me a little. He let out a tiny satisfied noise when he was done checking my wrists, and then, without checking the ties on my ankles, he called out, "Still tied up tight!" and closed the trunk.

I looked over at what he had put down. It was his empty coffee cup. He had dropped it on its side, and I restrained a sigh as I saw a few drops spill out on the upholstery. Such a waste. But really, I wasn't fiending for caffeine as badly as I should be, considering how long I had gone without. I realized that the coffee I'd drunk in the forest had actually somehow provided me with a caffeine fix. Of course, that was completely impossible, but what else was new? There was also the impossible fact that I could still taste the mint of the toothpaste I had used, just a little. Yeah. Things were getting weird.

A few more minutes went by, and then the three of them all got back into the car. As Gold Cross started up the engine, I heard Joe shift around in his seat.

"She's been out a long time," he said. From the volume of his voice, I could tell he was facing me. "I wonder if she has some sort of concussion. Aren't you supposed to not sleep if you have a concussion?"

"Wake her up then," said Gold Cross. "Tell her how worried you are about her. Maybe once she's awake she can tell you what it's like to have sex with a vampire."

Joe shuddered audibly, then said, "It's hard to believe she humped a vampire like, over and over."

I bit my lip. I was sort of befuddled, really. Where were these guys getting their information? Adrian and I had only done _that_ once. Or twice, depending on how you looked at it. But certainly not "over and over."

"It's revolting," said Gold Cross. "It's despicable. It's also revolting and despicable that we let them walk amongst us rather than fight an all-out war."

Quiet Dave said something, but all I heard clearly was: "... glad we don't have to deal with the other..."

"She'll be happy in her pretty little cage," said his brother Gold Cross. "Though she might get a little bit... peckish."

There was laughter from the front seat at this comment, and I was left disturbed. I didn't think they were talking about me – more likely, the 'other' that Dave had mentioned was Jill. It sounded like they were going to put her in a cage and let her starve to death. My hands balled up into fists, and I squeezed my eyes shut against the tears that began to spring up. Jill might be a Moroi, but she was a sweet, lovely, bright girl. Even someone who hated the idea of Moroi would have to be somewhat converted by her.

To calm myself, I vowed that the first thing I'd do when I was free would be to go find Jill. And next time I saw Adrian, I would have to ask him if he could find Jill in a spirit dream, or at least make sure to pass her a mental message that we loved her and were going to save her.

And, as we drove along in silence again, I decided that in fact, now would be a good time to check in with Adrian. At least two hours had gone by since we had last spoken, and hopefully, he was well on his way. I closed my eyes and tried to focus on the beautiful soft purr of the engine, letting it lull me to sleep. I found myself wondering if it would be weird to name a car that I didn't own. "It'd be annoying," I thought just before I fell asleep, "to have to keep calling it the Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT-8."


	37. II: The Crack Team (part 1)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 3: The Crack Team (part 1)**

I looked up.

In front of me was a beautiful tree, but it wasn't one of my beloved _Pinus ponderosas_. It was a S_equoia sempervirens_ – a California redwood tree. There were several redwoods, in fact, and the ground around them was covered in fuzzy green moss. I reached out to rub my hand along the rich red bark, marveling at how soft and smooth it was, then I bent down to touch the springy moss. As always in a spirit dream, everything felt incredibly real. I looked down at myself and saw that I was wearing the same thing that I was wearing in real life – the white silk shell and khaki shorts I'd put on this morning, and over the shell, Adrian's gray cashmere sweater. The air was cool and slightly damp, like the air after a rain, and it made a refreshing change from the cramped confines of my cargo hatch.

I turned around, reflexively rubbing at my sore wrists as blood-flow returned to my hands. Facing the stand of redwoods was a small zen garden, with beautifully tended sands raked into waves around a big black rock. A pretty metal lantern stood nearby, and a path curved around a small hill. Puffy white clouds traveled lazily across the bright blue sky.

"Adrian?" I called.

"Sydney!" he answered as he came running down the path. He was wearing a white t-shirt and a pair of dark jeans, and to my eyes he looked like heaven. I jumped up and ran too, and we threw our arms around each other. "Sydney!" Adrian repeated. "Oh, you're here, you're here, you're here!" And he bent down and pressed kisses all over my face – my lips, my cheeks, my chin, my forehead. I started to giggle a little. "Where are you?" he asked, between kisses. "Still in the car?"

"Yes," I said. "No change. Where are _you_?"

"I'm in the backseat of Julia's car," Adrian said, finally leaning away from me enough that we could see each other. "It sure is a unique vehicle, I'll say that for it." He wrinkled his nose. "It _smells_ unique, anyway. The good news is, we're almost to Highway 5 already. We're making great time. Your friend sure has a heavy foot on the accelerator." He grinned. "I've promised her that I'll get us out of any speeding tickets."

I smiled. "So, it's working out. That's great." I leaned against his chest and squeezed him tight, noticing a faint, familiar smell to him that I hadn't smelled in a while. Cloves. Well, I couldn't begrudge him that.

"Of course," he said. "It was your plan. It had to work."

"Of course," I repeated. I leaned back so that I could see him better. Those eyes! I ran a hand through his carefully tousled hair, then I used one finger to trace the lines of his cheekbones and lips.

"What?" he asked, with a hesitant smile.

I shook my head, aware that I was being silly. "I'm just so happy to see you," I said. "It's dumb. I just saw you a little while ago."

"It's OK," he said, cupping my cheek with his hand. "I know the feeling."

We were silent for a moment. For some reason, I had started to tear up a little, so to distract myself, I looked around at the landscape. "Where are we, anyway?" I asked.

"San Francisco," Adrian said, maybe as glad of the distraction as I was. "Golden Gate Park, the Japanese Tea Garden. It's a little park-within-the-park, and it's real pretty. All this talk about Highway 5 made me think about that time I went up to San Francisco – I mentioned that, right?"

"Yeah," I said. "At the time, all I knew was that you were gone for a day or two." That had been when Jill was in mourning for Lee, and Adrian's absence had further aggravated Jill's loneliness. I had written it off at the time, figuring that Adrian needed a day or two off after what we'd both been through.

"Well, anyway. I ended up seeing this park, and I liked it. It's seven dollars to get in, would you believe that? So I had to talk my way past the guards, because I had left my wallet in my other pants that day..."

"_Which_ other pants?" I asked, innocently.

"Oh, the ones back at court in Pennsylvania," he said. "But in any case, it's a pretty place, and I wanted to take you somewhere pretty, somewhere where you could walk around, stretch your legs a little. There's not a lot to see, but I figured you'd be feeling cooped up from being... you know..." He searched for the right words, then settled on, "...being in the _car_. So I thought this place would be good. Unless you want someplace more exciting. We could go to a volcano in Hawaii, or the Great Wall of China, or..."

"This is great," I said. "Really. It's perfect."

"Cool," he said, and I could see that he was proud that I'd liked his choice. "Let me show you around." He offered me his arm and I took it, like were an old-fashioned courting couple from a Jane Austen novel. We started walking along the little path up the small hill. "So, any interesting developments on your end of things?" Adrian asked.

"Well, I don't know if it's interesting," I said, casually. "But I figured out that the car is dark blue. I caught a glimpse of the paint job for a second."

"That helps a _lot_," Adrian said. "So it's a fairly new, dark blue SUV, with three assholes in it, and a beautiful blonde tied up in the back. Can't be _too_ many of those riding up Route 395."

"Not just any SUV, actually," I said. "To be more specific, it's a Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8." Adrian stopped walking and stared at me. "The latest model, if I'm not mistaken," I added.

Adrian let out a whoop and actually picked me up and swung me around. For a moment I just laughed as we spun. Then he put me down and kissed me with great enthusiasm. When he stopped I was dizzy and smiling like an idiot. "I knew you could do it!" he exclaimed. "How did you figure it out?"

"Let's walk," I said. "I'll tell you all about it."

We started walking down the path again, and I told Adrian about the various clues I'd picked up on, and how only the SRT8 model class fit all the criteria. "SRT stands for Street Racing Technology," I said. "The whole SRT8 model line is ridiculously fast and equally expensive. Cars in that line usually have extra loud, extra powerful engines, in this case a HEMI 6.4 liter V8 engine..."

"You're forgetting, I'm not a car... um, _enthusiast_, like you," Adrian said. "I'm a regular, red-blooded, red-blood-drinking kind of dude. So, would you please translate all of that for me?"

"As far as you're concerned, the Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8 looks a lot like a regular Grand Cherokee, but it has two exhaust pipes, which in this model are centered below the license plate, rather than separated to the two outer edges of the fender."

Adrian looked puzzled. "Why on earth would a car need a two exhaust pipes?"

"In theory, it can help increase air flow to the engine, which allows for more efficient combustion and exhaust removal. It's expensive and hard to maintain, but it makes the car go faster, so..."

"Anything for speed? I guess I'm down with that," Adrian said.

"Truth is," I said, "I think the main reason that most people like dual exhaust is that it _looks_ cool." A smile twisted up the side of my mouth. "It's available in case a man isn't happy with the equipment he was born with."

Adrian paused for just a moment before he burst into laughter. "So it's not a car _I'd_ ever need to buy, is what you're saying," he said, and gave me a significant look.

"No," I said. We looked at each other and then I had to look away. Adrian squeezed my hand and we began walking again, coming to the top of the hill so that the whole landscape was visible. We could see a large, natural looking pond, some cute stepping-stone bridges, and a small red building with elaborate pagodas. Every single tree and bush had been placed carefully, and not one had a single leaf or twig out of the place. It was like being inside a painting.

"Wow," I said. "It's beautiful."

"Isn't it?" Adrian said, pleased. "I thought you'd like it. Where do you want to go first?"

"Let's head towards the pond," I said.

"Cool. There are tons of those giant goldfish," Adrian said, and we started walking down the hill towards the pond. "I love those. I want to have some as pets some day. I'd name the first three I get Maki, Nori, and Sushi."

"I'm sure they'd appreciate that," I said.

"You can name the next three," Adrian said. "Jeep, Honda..."

"I'd name mine... Renault, Austen, and Opal," I said.

"Those are cars?" Adrian said.

"Rare-ish ones," I said.

"They could also be real names," Adrian said. "We could name our kids that." I stared at him, wide eyed, but Adrian continued in a blithe way. "Oh, that reminds me, I've been thinking about something you said, and it's sort of bugging me."

"Something I said?" My mind began racing. Was he talking about our fight? What had reminded him of _that_?

"About the car you're in," Adrian said. "You described as sort of... the car version of an attention whore, right? So, you're basically saying _it's_ a rare car, right? It's an unusual, stand-out, attention grabbing kind of car. Am I right?"

"Yeah, pretty much," I said, relaxing again.

"Well, I'm not in the habit of kidnapping people," Adrian said. "At least, not physically. So I'm hardly an expert. But it seems to me that if I were to do something illegal, immoral, and otherwise naughty, I'd pick a boring, common car to do it in. You know. Something that isn't obviously different from all the other cars on the road."

"Me too," I said, and turned my head to one side as I thought about it more. "And you know, this car is even more rare and weird than you'd probably guess. There are maybe only about..." I paused to think. "Maybe about 1000 cars like this one on the road – you know, the right color, model, year, everything. In a country with maybe about 250 million cards on the road, that's a tiny, tiny, fraction."

"Yeah," Adrian said, then added: "How do you _know_ this stuff?"

"I keep up on car news," I said, shrugging. "I used to have to spend a fortune on car magazines, but now most of it's online, so that cuts down on expenses. I managed to finagle free online subscriptions to most of the trade mags." Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Hey, you're not the only one good at getting people to do what you want them to do," I said. "That's one of my major life skills! Anyway, so, yeah, I read the magazines, and when I can, I go to car shows. Those are a lot of fun."

"Well, everyone needs a hobby," Adrian said, half to himself. "I guess some people follow sports or fashion..."

"Car technology has all the human striving of sports, and all the art and interest of fashion," I said.

"If you say so," Adrian said, but he smiled.

"And you're right," I said, continuing on our previous topic. "It's a stupid car to choose for a kidnapping. Sure, it's fast – really, really fast – but it has horrible gas mileage. Joe, the whiner, said that they've already had to stop twice, though I don't know how long they were driving. I think it tells us something about the personality of these guys, that they'd use this car. Or at least, it tells us something about Gold Cross. It's his car, apparently."

"In other words, Mr. Gold Cross is an arrogant guy with a tiny penis," Adrian said, and I hit him on the arm. "The guy sounds like a real treasure," he added, grabbing the hand I'd used to hit him and kissing it.

I just shook my head, smiling, and Adrian and I walked on in companionable silence, holding hands again. For some reason, thinking of Gold Cross the way Adrian had painted him made me feel better. The guy obviously was overcompensating for _something _with his choice of car. It might or might not be biological, but there was likely something that was really worrying him, and if I could figure out what it was, I could probably gain an upper hand.

I was still thinking about this as we came around another curve in the path and saw a little cafe with outside seating that faced towards the pond.

"This is where they do the tea ceremonies," Adrian said, gesturing to the cafe. "Maybe we can get a cup of tea here later. That is, if you think we have time to hang out for a bit. Or do you think we need to... I don't know... wake up and watch the road or something?" He gave me a wistful look.

"Well, we have a lot to talk about," I said. "We have to plan and compare notes and stuff. Besides,

I don't see much reason to... go back there. It's fairly unpleasant to be tied up in the back seat of a car, and I'd rather be spending the time with you."

"Yeah, I can see that," Adrian said. We began the slight descent that would bring us to the edge of the pond.

"Besides," I said, "One of the guys said that we're not supposed to reach our destination until after 9 o'clock. So... Plenty of time to hang out. Unless you think that _you_ need to wake up soon?"

"I'm fine to stay for a bit," Adrian said. "I told the girls that they should only wake me up if we get pulled over, or if the car is on fire. Which sadly, is not outside the realm of the possible with that... car."

"The girls?" I repeated, noting the use of the plural. "Julia and who else?" We reached the edge of the pond. Ahead of us was a series of broad flat stones that formed a path through the water, and we started stepping from one large flat stone to the next.

"Kristina wanted to come with us," Adrian said, and looked heavenward for a moment in apparent exasperation. "Julia looked _so_ put out. Gave Kristina the death stare, you know? But I thought it was a good idea to not have too much alone time with Julia, so I said it'd be great to have Kristina along. Having more people makes the whole thing more festive-road-trippy, and besides, we _need_ a navigator. We don't have a TomTom or anything, and at 90 miles an hour, it'd be hard for Julia to read all the signs."

"Ninety?" I exclaimed.

"It's necessary," Adrian said. "See, ok, when we spoke before, you were near this place called Kramer Junction. According to this online map thing I found, that's 120 miles away from Palm Springs. And it took me a while to finally get in a car and everything. So, I'd guess that they were maybe 150 miles ahead of me by the time I actually hit the road. And so, basically, the faster, the better, if we're going to catch up to you."

"Hmm," I said. "I'd estimate that we're going about 40 miles an hour, max. If you're moving at about 90 miles an hour..." I paused to do the calculations. "You'd overcome the 150 mile gap in about three hours. Less if we go slower, like if we hit traffic. If you were going 80, and we were still going 40, it would take... hmm, closer to four hours. Either way, it's doable."

"My sexy little math geek," Adrian said.

"Oh, the one-car-catches-up-the-other problems are easy," I said, catching the gleam in Adrian's eye. "You just take the distance that you have to overcome, measured in miles, and divide it by the amount by which the second car is going faster than the first car, measured in miles per hour, and the result is the time, in hours, required to catch up to–"

Adrian pulled me into a kiss then, one that was simultaneously intense and gentle. He rested one hand on the small of my back, and with the other he cradled my neck. He kept his eyes open as we kissed with greater and greater force. Finally, I had to pull away.

"Sorry," I said. "It's just that I'm worried about my body, what it might be doing back in the car." I took deep, calming breaths, looking down the beautiful fat koi swimming peacefully in the dark water.

"Sorry too," Adrian said, and I looked up at him. The look on his face sent sparks up and down my body.

"You don't have to be sorry," I said.

"Good," he replied. "Because I'm not _that_ sorry."

"It's just... we have to be serious," I said.

Adrian took one of my hands and kissed it. "I know that this is a serious situation. _Believe_ me, I know. I'm actually kind of freaking out. But I'm trying not to, you know? I don't want either of us to lose our minds with worry. It won't help get you back, and it'll make us both miserable. We might as well enjoy our time together right _now_."

"Because it might be our last date, you mean," I said, and immediately regretted it. Being scared half to death was no excuse for being sulky and childish.

"I don't mean that," Adrian said. "But if it is, then it is. I want it to be a good one. So, let's just... be as happy as we can be, ok? And I'll come up with crazy Adrian ideas, and you'll come up with brilliant Sydney ideas, and somehow, we'll get you out of that car and back with me where you belong."

I really hadn't expected Adrian to be so matter-of-fact about all of this. There was no flippant party boy here – just a guy doing his best to keep it all together. "Ok," I said. "It's a deal."

"Cool," he said. He gave me one more quick peck on the cheek, then said, "Come on, let's keep going." We crossed another stone or two and soon we were back on the main path that ran alongside the pond. There were more koi here, and I we sat down on a stone bench to look at them. Adrian conjured up some bread to toss them, and when I informed that bread wasn't good for fish, he shrugged and replaced them with fish pellets. We tossed the pellets out to the fish and watched them come up to the surface to eat, their mouths forming wide open Os as they scooped up the pellets.

"I'm worried about Jill," I said, in a whisper, breaking the silence. "I didn't tell you this before, but... They said something about putting her in a cage and waiting for her to get hungry."

Adrian took a deep breath, closing his eyes. "I can't take this," he whispered.

"I know," I said. "She must be so frightened."Adrian reached out and took my hand. "I'll find her, too," he said. I've tried and tried to find her in a spirit dream, but so far, I can't pick up on her anywhere. Either she's not asleep or she's in some sort of deeply drugged state."

"Or maybe she's..." But I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"She's alive," Adrian said, squeezing my hand. "I feel certain. I'd know, you know? The bond may be one way, but still, I'd know if she were... gone." We were both silent a moment, and then Adrian stood up from the bench. "It'll be ok, though. Once I rescue you, Sydney, we'll figure out how to save her too. I'm sure that we can figure something out together."

"Most likely," I said, and stood up too. We started walking along the path again, and I looked down at the koi. They were so brightly colored and fat that it was hard for me not to smile when I saw them.

"And maybe Jill will be listening to me, you know?" Adrian added. "I think that at the rate I'm using spirit, the 'patch' you put over the bond will be wearing off any second, if it hasn't already. When I'm awake, I'm going to focus on her as often as I can, and think encouraging thoughts at her." He gave a wry smile. "It's better than nothing, I guess."

We began walking up the hill again, past a collection of tiny perfect bonsai trees. At the top of the hill was the red structure I had seen before, the one decorated with pagodas.

"We have a huge battle in front of us," I said. "My escape, and Jill's rescue... Plus clearing my name, and trying to figure out who's behind this whole thing. It'd be easier if we could get Eddie back. Or if we had anyone to help us."

"I tried to call a few people while I was waiting for you," Adrian said. "Rose didn't answer. Neither did Lissa or Dimitri."

"You called _Dimitri_?"

"I would have called the devil himself if I thought he'd help me save you," Adrian said, then looked pensive for a moment. "Of course, I doubt that the devil would take my calls anymore these days. I've gone all soft since I fell in love with you." Adrian laughed. "Anyway," he continued, "the only person I got a hold of was Christian Ozera."

"Christian Ozera..." I repeated, trying to place where I'd heard the name.

"Lissa's boyfriend," Adrian answered. "He's sort of a friend of mine, too, I guess. Good guy. Fun sense of humor."

"I think I read a brief on him," I said. "No, wait, I definitely did. Ozera. His parents chose to go Strigoi, right? And his aunt Tasha was the one who..." I broke off, seeing the look on Adrian's face. "Oh, Adrian, I'm sorry."

"His aunt killed my aunt," said Adrian. "Yeah, it's awkward. But anyway. He's still a good guy, despite all that. And at least he picked up the phone when I called. But all he could tell me was that the court was in some sort of uproar. Apparently, a few weeks ago, the Guardians found some bugs or something in important rooms, I mean, the microphone kind, not like, cockroaches. And now they found a few more, the same day that Jill was kidnapped."

"Rose told me about those bugs," I said. "I don't remember exactly what she said. It was around the time that you and I got back together. She was in a huge hurry to get off the phone. Things will probably make more sense once we talk to her..." I trailed off, catching the look on Adrian's face.

"I feel awful telling you this, sweetheart, but... Well, Christian sounded pretty convinced that you were the one who took Jill. And from how he talked, it seems like Lissa was on board with that – Lissa and the whole Moroi court." Adrian took my hand in that comforting way of his. We stopped walking, and I looked at the bright red building, which was now only a few feet away. It was brightly decorated with four large pagodas and looked like it was straight out of a Buddhist temple complex. I tried to breathe in a little of its zen energy.

"Yeah, it's kind of horrible," Adrian went on. "The good news is that maybe Rose is still on your side. After all, Christian and Lissa barely know you. Rose is actually your friend, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I said. "She knows me pretty well. We still talk sometimes."

"Hang on," Adrian said, in a different tone. "Do you two... talk about me? Like, compare notes and stuff?" I drew breath to answer, but Adrian cut me off. "Don't answer that. I don't want to know." I laughed. "Anyway," Adrian continued. "I didn't try to talk Christian out of his misconceptions. I didn't want to make a big deal about it, and besides, I didn't know who else might be listening to the call, you know?" I nodded. "There might be some compulsion-based memory modification going on at court, for all we know. It would explain why suddenly no one trusts you, when so far, they've left their most valuable political pawn in your hands. But even memory modification can only go so far. It would take a long, long time to convince Rose that you were the bad guy."

"It's the same with alchemist techniques," I said. "You can't suddenly convince someone that fire is cold and water is dry. But you can talk them into thinking that the blood they saw was really just ketchup, especially since most people would rather believe that anyway."

"Exactly," Adrian said. "As you know, compulsion works in a similar way. Anyway, Rose knows you pretty well, and Dimitri and Sonya have each spent some time with you. We can hope that they'll stand up for you. But..."

"We can't count on it," I said.

"No," Adrian said. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wish I had better news."

"So," I said, trying to sound lighthearted. "No crack team after all."

"Hang on, hang on," Adrian said, in an aggrieved tone. "I said I would lead a crack team to come find you, and a crack team it will be. Look. There's me, and there's you. We've also got the super genius" – he nodded to me – "the blonde bombshell, the linguist, and the automotive expert."

I smiled. "That's a big team," I said, then added, slowly, "There's also the dream walker."

"And the dream adjuster," Adrian replied.

"And the healer, the smooth-talker, and the mind-control expert," I said.

"Them too," Adrian agreed. "And don't forget the other healer," he added.

"And the sharp-dressed ladies man," I said.

"And the mad scientist," Adrian said, dramatically.

"And the mad pastry chef."

"And the volleyball star," Adrian.

"And the world's best lover," I said.

"Yes, I'm looking at her," Adrian said, and had to look down at my shoes. "We have an amazing team, Sage," he said. "What else could we possibly need?"

I paused and then said, "I guess it'd be nice to have an over-trained dhampir guy and a water-using Moroi."

"Well, duh," Adrian said. "But other than that."

"It'd be nice to know that anyone else was on our side," I said, and I heard the fear in my own voice.

"Don't lose hope," he said, and his face was suddenly drained of all humor. "I can't do this by myself."

"Sorry," I said. "I'm trying, I swear. It's just..."

"Listen, Sage," Adrian said, pulling me close. "Don't give up. _I'm_ not going to give up. We have an appointment, OK? Someplace really warm..." – he bent down to my neck – "...and quiet..." – he kissed the soft spot under my ear. "...and dark." He kept kissing me until he got me to sigh in pleasure, then pulled away. "Wait and see. Last night was just the beginning."

"Was that just last night?" I said. "It feels like forever ago."

"To me, too," said Adrian. "This whole stupid thing is such a waste of time," he added, casually, as if he were annoyed about waiting for a pizza delivery or something. "I mean, the refractory period is only about 15 minutes so I'm well past good to go again." I hit his arm, and he looked aggrieved. "Are you saying that the refractory period isn't really 15 minutes, sweetheart?"

I sighed theatrically, and then leaned against him.

He leaned down and kissed the top of my head. "I've decided that I'm going to do this right. I am sick of being a victim, you know? I've done enough of that. This time, I get to be the hero." I could hear the smile in his voice. "I'm going to go rescue the princess. I just hope that when I get there, there isn't a little mushroom dude jumping up and down and saying, 'Thank you Adrian, but Sydney is in another castle!'"

"Is this a reference to your Nintendo game?" I asked. My voice was muffled by his shirt.

"Yep," he said. "Oh hey," he added. "Do you want to hear my awesome plan for rescuing you? I have it all planned out, what I'll do after I catch up to you."

"Of course I want to hear it," I said, stepping back a little. His enthusiasm had me smiling again.

"Ok," he said, in an excited tone. "See, ok. See..." He starting pacing around. "When I get close enough to you, right? I'll send the girls away and steal another car. Like, a fast one, you know? Something _red_."

"The fastest color," I said, with a straight face.

"It's science," Adrian said, gravely. "Then I'll follow your car until it pulls over for gas or something. From what you're saying, it'll have to pull over pretty often."

"About every 200 miles," I said.

"Oh," he said. "I guess that isn't _that_ often."

"Well, it's often enough," I said. "They just stopped a little while ago. They'll have to stop at least once or twice more. Plus, they have to stop to eat and use the restroom..."

"They're guys, Sage. They'll probably just pull over and piss at the side of the road."

I made a face. Guys did have that habit, in my limited experience. They were like dogs, marking their territory. "Well, either way, they'll stop. And if they don't, they'll get to their destination and have to stop then."

"Although that might be tricky," said Adrian. "Because there might be a lot more of them wherever they're going. But, if all goes well, they'll stop before they get there. And then... bam! There I'll be!"

"And you'll do... what exactly?"

"I'll be a bad-ass," he said. "I'll have them hitting the ground in seconds!"

"How?"

He grinned sheepishly. "I figure I'll use compulsion to make them fall asleep," he said. "It'd be the easiest way." He continued in a much grander tone: "And then I'll undo the ties that bind you, carry you to the car in my strong arms, tenderly lay you down in the back so you can rest..."

"Nuh-uh," I said. "Not a chance. I'm driving. You'll put me down in the driver's seat."

"Fine," he said, wryly. "I know who wears the driving pants in this relationship. Which is _fine_," he added quickly, before I could protest. "As long as I get to take them off of you at some point. Preferably, with my teeth." He winked, and then continued in a business-like tone. "So, to conclude, I'll rescue you, then you'll, you know, put the pedal to the metal. Then we'll find a small airport, and go schmooze our way onto a plane and get far, far away."

There was another small bench near the building with the pagodas, so we sat down there for a bit while we talked about escaping by plane. While we talked, Adrian pulled an apple from the sky and began cutting it up into small pieces, offering some of them to me. I accepted a few chunks, and found them crispy and sweet. Adrian told me that he had already picked out a few small airports, which were marked on his phone's mapping feature. I had already known that there were lots of small airports scattered about the country, but even I was surprised by how many there were within a two hour drive of Reno, Nevada.

I was even more surprised when Adrian said that he had enough money to take care of any expenses that we might run into for a while. He explained that, after our first talk that morning in the forest, but before I had come back to tell him where the guys were heading, Adrian had had an hour or so to kill, and he had used the time well. He had called that awful Regina Palmeiri, and she had bought a few paintings based only on the photo Adrian sent her from his phone. He had also sold his beloved flat-screen TV and all his DVDs to a neighbor for a wad of cash. Adrian was cagey about how much money he had actually raised, but swore that it was plenty.

"Besides, for most things, I don't really need cash," Adrian said. "As you know, there's something about me that people just like to do things for me for free." He gave me a wicked smile. "So after I get you back from your evil abductors, we don't have to scrounge like starving little rats. We can live comfortably off my money until we're back among normal society."

"Wow," I said. "Just... wow. Thank you. Thank you for selling the TV and stuff. I know you liked that TV."

"Meh," Adrian said. "I can get another one, a top-of-the-line one, later. It was the paintings that were a bit harder to part with."

"You didn't sell her the one of me, did you? I mean, the one you showed me last night."

"No way," Adrian said. "Of course, I'd rather have _you_ than that painting, but it didn't come down to that. What I did was, I asked my neighbor if he wouldn't mind holding on to it for me for a while. It was part of the deal, when I sold him the TV for so little money. I wrapped it up in kraft paper and he put it in his storage space for me."

I exhaled in relief. I didn't want Regina Palmeiri, or anyone else, looking at that painting. That was for me and Adrian only. "Well, I'm glad you saved that one," I said. "How is she going to get the paintings from you?"

"I left them with my doorman," Adrian said. "It took a few pieces of cake to convince him, but, he's used to me by now and he doesn't mind my various shenanigans."

"And how is she going to pay you?" I asked.

"That's the best part,"Adrian said. "She wired the money directly into my bank account already! Wonders of the internet!"

"That's great," I said. "But... we should be careful. Someone might freeze your account, if they start to think that you're helping me get away with my dastardly plan to hurt Jill."

"You think they would freeze my account?" Adrian asked. "Really?"

"Alchemists can do that," I said. "Real alchemists, can, anyway. And apparently, the real alchemists are after me, too. So... they might go after you too, sooner or later."

"Well, I guess that I could withdraw all the cash and move it into another account I have, for safekeeping," Adrian said. "No one knows about _that_ account."

"They would just run a search under your name," I said. "They'd find all your accounts, no matter where they were."

"Not this one," Adrian said, with a grin. "It's under the name James Edward Terrance Steel."

I stared in disbelief.

"Get it?" Adrian said, still grinning. "James Edward Terrance! J-E-T..."

"I get it," I said. "Why on earth do you have that account? And how did you _get_ it?"

"It's weird," Adrian said. "People at the bank just believe anything you tell them about your name, the validity of your identification cards, and so on. I mean, you'd think they'd notice that my ID was just hand drawn on a receipt from McDonalds, but they didn't. It was a breeze. As far as _why_ I got the account, well, my dad has been monitoring my other bank account. I didn't really want him to know that I had started to make so much money, or he'd withdraw the pittance he'd started giving me from my trust fund since I started school. So, I thought I'd just open a new bank account. Plus, they gave me a free gift certificate to Starbucks. I've been meaning to give that to _you_, you caffeine addict. I keep forgetting."

"I'm... speechless," I said. "You know, you have a lot more tricks up your sleeve than anyone would ever guess."

"Well, thanks," Adrian said. "Anyway, I'm just glad that after I catch up to you and get you back, I can take care of things for us, financially anyway, for a while."

"And what if..." I said. I swallowed heavily. "What if you don't catch up to me?"

"First off, I will. Second, I totally will. Third, I absolutely, positively, totally will."

"But if you don't?"

"Ok. If all else fails... I'll check into a hotel somewhere and wait for you to get in touch. And if you don't, through some weird chance, then... I guess I'll just have to find you somehow. _Stay alive!_" he added, very dramatically. "_I will find you!_"

I smiled. "It's a deal," I said. "You stay alive too, ok?"

"Oh, I told you," Adrian said. "I'm big on that."


	38. II: The Crack Team (part 2)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 4: The Crack Team (part 2)**

"You know, it might not be that hard to find me," I said, trying to stay hopeful. "I mean, you know the car, you know a little bit about the guys, you have some idea of our destination..." I told Adrian every detail I knew about the car and the guys driving it, as well as anything else I could think of that might be relevant.

Adrian assured me that he could hack DMV records and other official data to try to track me down, and I assumed that his methods would involve a lot more baked goods than typing. Somehow, the image of Adrian storming the DMV with a box of charmed doughnuts made me smile. Then we discussed places that the goons might be taking me, in case Adrian couldn't get a line on the car or its drivers.

"I've thought about it," Adrian said. "Ok, see, Highway 395 goes through Nevada briefly, near Reno, and then goes back into California, continuing north. That must be the 'across state lines' that the whiney guy was worried about."

"So, we must be going north of that point," I said.

"Exactly," Adrian said. "And it can't be too close to the coast, because then even the stupidest Sat-Nav would recommend Highway 5 over Route 395. So it's somewhere within California, north of Reno, Nevada, but probably in the eastern half of the state. And a lot of that area is some sort of park that you're not really allowed to just wander into and build, you know, an evil headquarters. So... it's not narrowed down too much, I know, but... it's a start."

"Yeah," I said. "And you know, I've been thinking – if I can't get in touch, and you have to wait for a little while, then maybe you could use Reno as a home base for a day or two."

"There _are_ some casinos and hotels there that cater to Moroi," Adrian said, thinking it over. "I'd be able to find a feeder."

"Exactly. Also, that way you'd have a cover story: party boy Adrian is blowing off steam when his friend gets kidnapped. What does he do? He goes to Reno to gamble."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "I guess I made my own bed, but I am really sick of this shit," he said. I started to say that of course I knew that the story wasn't true, but Adrian cut me off. "Don't worry, Sage. I know that _you_ know better than all those assholes back at court who only see me one way. It's a brillian idea, really – a cover story. And gambling would explain why I withdrew all my money from my account." He scratched his chin pensively. "Yeah, it works. I sold the paintings, went up to Reno, withdrew the money, and then partied it up at the roulette table. Although why I would go to fucking Reno when Vegas is closer and better, I cannot begin to explain."

"You wanted a change," I said. "Or... there was a girl there that you were following, maybe."

He sighed. "A girl. Yeah, that would be like me, wouldn't it? Running all around the state just for some girl." He sighed heavily, and I hit him on the arm. "Oh, come on," he said. "Don't be mad. You're not just some girl."

"I know that," I said.

"Good." He folded me into his arms. "I'd do a lot more than drive to Reno to get you back," he said. "I _will_ do a lot more. You'll see."

"I know that too," I said.

"Good," he said. "Hey, are you hungry at all? That apple just isn't cutting it for me."

"I guess I wouldn't mind a snack..." I said.

"And I think we've more or less done all the planning and scheming we can do," Adrian said. "What do you think?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Then let's go the cafe," Adrian said. "We'll have some green tea, and some green tea ice cream, and some green tea flavored dumplings. And, if you really, really want to, we can have things that don't taste like green tea."

"Ok," I said. "That sounds fun."

"Exactly," Adrian said. "No life or death talks, no worries. Just weird cafe food. Come on, m'lady." He offered me his arm, and before I took it, I concentrated for a moment and made him an intricate Japanese-style parasol to use as a shield from the sun. He thanked me, and we began strolling up the paths to the cafe.

"When I was here in real life," Adrian said as we walked, "I didn't need to worry about the sun. I didn't even need sunscreen. In San Francisco, the mist starts rolling down through the Golden Gate every afternoon. You can _see_ it moving! It's crazy. And then you can barely see a foot in front of your face. It's cool for Moroi, but I don't know how humans can deal with it. You guys _like_ the sun." He considered that. "Cool city, though."

"If it weren't overrun with Strigoi," I said.

"Yeah," said Adrian. "The only reason we were able to go out that night is that one of the kids I rode up with had a friend who had a few really tough guardians assigned to him. Having the guardians around sort of put a damper on the night, but not like, you know, getting killed would have."

"I guess that's the paradox of being Moroi," I said. "In most places where the weather would be nice for you, you'd be almost afraid to cluster, because the more you cluster, the more the Strigoi will follow."

"Yeah, that's true," Adrian said. "For a while, everyone was moving up to Forks, Washington, but then that place just got so _uncool_."

"What we need is a place that's sunny enough to keep the Strigoi and Moroi away, but not so sunny that it'll drive you nuts," I said.

"When we get home, we'll consult the internet before we buy any property," Adrian said.

"Good plan," I said.

We got to the cafe and Adrian grabbed a plastic menu from the pile by the door and handed it to me. I looked at it and laughed. All it said was, "_Have Anything You Want, Sage."_

"I'm going to have some sushi," Adrian said. "And a pot of that strong green tea that smells like they fermented it in a swamp for a month. Good stuff. You?"

"I guess some tea," I said. I felt Adrian looking at me, so I said, "And some sushi. Brown rice sushi."

Adrian produced an absolutely enormous plate of sushi for us to share, and per my request, even made some of it with brown rice, although he considered it "an abomination." It was amazing, just as all the food we ate in dreams always was, and we ate happily. I tried to eat a bit more than I ordinarily would have eaten, especially considering that I hadn't had breakfast or lunch and probably wouldn't have dinner. Adrian told stories about his trip to San Francisco, and we had a nice time, trying not to think about my abduction or our upcoming battles.

When we were done with the sushi, Adrian whisked it away and gave us each a bowl of green ice cream. To my surprise, mine was honeydew melon flavor, not green tea, and Adrian confessed sheepishly that his was vanilla that just looked green. "I don't really like green tea ice cream," he said. "I don't think anyone does."

"_I_ do," I said.

"Really?" he said. "And you'd rather have it than the honeydew melon?"

"No," I said, looking away. He laughed and went on with the story he'd been telling me.

"So then, after we go the ham out of the coat check," he said, "we had to get the damn thing back to the hotel."

"But wasn't it like, twenty pounds?" I asked.

"We had to take turns carrying it," Adrian said. "It was a pain in the ass. I don't know, it just looked so good when we were at the tapas bar..."

"And how much sangria had you had at that point?"

"A fair bit," said Adrian.

I shook my head, smiling. "I hope someday I get to be with you on one of those crazy adventures you have," I said.

"Hey, we already have had some adventures," Adrian said. "Sneaking into the tattoo store was kind of fun. And you know, there's nothing more adventurous than Strigoi attacks and mysterious abductions. That's how we should be seeing this whole thing, I guess. This is a story we'll tell our grandkids someday." Adrian set his jaw as if he were a very old man, and added in a creaky voice, "Gather round, youngins, while Pop-pop tells you the story of how he saved Nan-nan from the bad guys!"

"Pop-pop?" I said, laughing a little.

"Well, I like that better than Grampa," Adrian said. "Too pedestrian, you know? Everyone has a Grampa. I'll be Pop-pop. You don't have to be Nan-nan if you don't want to."

"I think I'd rather be Grammie," I said, then looked down at my shoes, suddenly shy.

"I think I'll make a really good looking old man," Adrian said blithely, undeterred by my lapse into silence. "I mean, my dad might be an asshole, but he's good looking for an old guy, I think. So we'll make a good pair. Sexy old people, still humping like rabbits..."

I let out a sort of explosive laugh and had to cover my mouth.

"I like it when you laugh," Adrian said. "You don't laugh often enough."

"I laugh all the time these days," I said. "I even _giggle_, Adrian. I never used to giggle."

"Well, then I'm winning," Adrian said. He got off of his chair, and got down on his knees so that he was right at eye level with me. "Sydney," he said, gravely. "Will you do me the honor..." – and then he grabbed me and began tickling me energetically – "of laughing some more, please!"

"I... hate... being... tickled..." I choked out.

"Yeah, apparently it's considered a form of torture in some cultures," Adrian said, but didn't stop.

I let out a sort of shriek and then, angling myself closer to him, managed to kiss his neck. He slowed down his movements to let me continue kissing him, then stopped completely, making a sort of low, contented hum deep in his chest. "Hmmm..." he sighed. "Ok, Sage, you win this round," he said, when I pulled away. "But you know that you've just taught me that I get rewarded for tickling you."

"Then you need a more appropriate punishment," I said, and turned away from Adrian casually. I concentrated for a moment and felt something large appear in my hands. It was a cream pie.

"Ooh," said Adrian, who couldn't see the pie. "Punishment? I like the sound of that..."

"Do you?" I said, sweetly, and then hit him in the face with the pie.

Adrian sputtered for a minute, wiping whipped cream off of his face, while I burst into laughter. "Where did you even get that thing?" he said, though he was laughing too. I was laughing too hard to answer, but Adrian went on. "I know, I know. Dream space. You can get anything you want. Fine. I consider myself punished. We're even."

"Good," I said. "And see? You made me laugh again!"

"Excellent," Adrian said. "Very nice Loony Toons reference, by the way. But are you going to help me get this whipped cream off my face?"

"Sure," I said, and handed him a damp paper towel. "There you go."

"You're the only girl I'd ever forgive for hitting me in the face with a pie," Adrian said, clearing the cream from his eyes. He tasted some of it, experimentally, and seemed to approve.

"You're the only guy I'd ever want to hit in the face with a pie," I countered.

"If we had more time, I'd insist that you clean me off with your tongue," Adrian said. "And I'd be sure to get the pie on more... strategic places."

"I'm sure you would," I said, still laughing. Adrian had gotten a lot of the cream off of his face now, and I took the towel from him and began dabbing at the bits of stuff that remained here and there. It took a minute or two, and Adrian whined a bit, but finally we got his face back to its former perfect state.

"Are you mad at me?" I asked.

"For what?" Adrian asked, and a pie appeared on the table in front of him. "Why on earth would I be mad?"

"Don't you dare," I said. "I thought we were even."

Adrian stuck a finger in the pie and grabbed some of the whipped cream to taste. "Yum," he said, pushing the pie away. "See what a nice guy I am?" he added. "I'm not getting you back at all."

"A prince," I said.

"No, just a Lord," Adrian said. Then he kissed me for a long moment.

"So, we're even?" I asked, when we were done. I took his hands and held them in mine, at least partially to keep him from grabbing the pie.

"I guess for now," Adrian said. "But if we had more time I'd be doing all sorts of things with that pie." He paused and looked down at our clasped hands, his expression changing rapidly. "See, that's the kind of thing we should be doing today," he added, gloomily.

"Hitting each other with pies?" I asked, dubiously. "It probably wouldn't be as much fun in real life as it is in dreams..."

"No, not that, exactly," Adrian said. "But we should be... _you_ know. What do the gossip mags call it? Cavorting? We should be cavorting."

"Cavorting?" I repeated.

"See," said Adrian, warming to his theme. "That's kind of the worst thing about this. I mean, except for the whole danger element. We've been _cheated_. It sucks."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I mean, last night was your first time, right? It should have been perfect."

"It _was_ perfect," I said. "From what I've heard, most girls don't particularly enjoy their first sexual experience. Mine was... um, really, really enjoyable."

"Well, of course," Adrian said. "It was with _me_. That's not my point, Sage. Look, the morning after you do it with someone you really care about, you're supposed to... I don't know, stay in bed... have sex again... read each other the newspaper... have more sex... eat French toast... have more sex... take a shower together..."

"Have more sex," I said, dryly.

"You're getting it," Adrian said. "So that's what we were supposed to be doing today. Spending the whole day laughing and kissing and fucking and all that excellent stuff." At my raised eyebrow, Adrian made a face and said, "_Making love_ then, if you don't like the f-word. In any case, I was looking forward to that, you know?"

"All the sex?"

"That too," he said, and then paused as if choosing his words carefully. "It's not just that. I wanted that cozy morning after. You know, the French toast and the newspaper and the whole nine. In a weird way, I was looking forward to the morning after more than the night itself. Because I never really... had that kind of morning after. OK, yeah, I've been with a few girls. But I never loved any of them. So usually, to be honest, the morning after, I'd pretty much just split. And before you start to think that I'm a complete asshole, I just want to point out that those girls didn't even want me to stick around. They liked my money and my charm and my clothes and maybe my face, but they didn't like _me_ much." He sighed. "Looking back on it, I was really wasting my time. Of course, since I hadn't met you yet, what else could I really be doing?"

I had a long answer to that, but right now didn't seem the time. Honestly, it was a little hard to reign in the jealousy that sprang up when I thought about all of Adrian's conquests before me. I tried to put it out of my mind, as it wasn't helpful or germane to our current predicament. I said, "I guess it would have been nice to spend the day eating French toast and reading the newspaper. And um, doing the other thing."

"It would have been more than 'nice,' Sage. It would have been glorious. Just talking and laughing and sex and cuddling and whatnot."

"Hmm," I said, picturing it.

"And instead, we're on the road to god knows where, possibly with our lives at stake. And I didn't even get a morning cuddle with you," Adrian said, gloomily. "And that's like, a totally G-rated thing, Sage! It's not fair!"

"Oh," I said, suddenly remembering the events of the morning – the painting, the fight, and me storming out into the still-dark morning. "I'm so sorry, Adrian."

"What?" he said, confused. "Why are _you_ sorry?"

"Because I left. And um... you know. The whole thing. The fight." I swallowed heavily. "I was such a dork."

Adrian paused to take a deep breath, then squeezed my hand. "It is what it is," he said. "Yeah, you shouldn't have just left like that. That really pissed me off. And yeah, you shouldn't have looked at the picture. That also really pissed me off. But... I guess I shouldn't have been painting secret pictures of things instead of just talking to you about what was on my mind."

"Oh," I said. "Um. Thanks. That's very... um..."

"Mature? Civilized? Rational? Calm?" Adrian supplied.

"Yeah," I said.

"I like to keep you on your toes," Adrian said. "You think you know what I'm going to say, and then, blammo, I say something different. Anyway, you don't have to act like all of this shit is your fault. I mean, it's their fault. The assholes who took you. They're the ones who owe me an apology. Owe you one, too, of course."

"But if I had just stayed..."

"If you had stayed, then they probably would have found you at my place," Adrian said. "They were obviously gunning for you. And then maybe they would have taken me too, and there'd be no one to rescue you, except maybe little Jailbait, and... well, she is amazing with her water stuff, but I think that my skills are a little more useful in this case."

"You're probably right," I said. "But I'm still sorry about the fight."

"You told me that this morning," Adrian said. "In the forest. And I told you, it's OK. We had a fight. We've had a few before, and we'll probably have a few more."

"It's just..." I said, and paused to try to find the words. "It's just that, I want to tell you, it's OK that you're worried about me. Actually it's great. But you don't have to worry. I'm fine. I have everything under control, food-wise."

Adrian looked me in the eye, unsmiling. "I know you do, Sydney."

"And... I'm fine. I'm not, you know, what you think I am." I thought Adrian would supply the word, but he just waited for me to continue, so I did. "I'm not... weird about food. I just like to eat healthy."

"Healthy is good," said Adrian.

"So really, don't worry," I said.

"Well, you know I hate worrying," he said. "It's against my nature."

"So..."

"So?"

"So it's OK?"

"So what's OK?"

"The food thing!" I said, in exasperation. "I mean, do you believe me? That I'm fine? About the food, anyway?"

"I believe that you are a mighty fine chick, Sydney," he said. His eyes rested on my half-eaten bowl of ice cream.

_He didn't answer the question, _the Traitor pointed out, but while I knew she was right, I decided to just let it go. I didn't want to start a fight. So I just said, "OK," and hugged him.

"Come on," Adrian said. "Let's... let's cheer up." He looked down. "Are you wearing my sweater in real life too?" he asked.

"Yes. They must have no idea it belongs to an evil vampire."

"Well, I'm glad. I hope it protects you."

"I'll bring it back to you in one piece," I said.

"You better," he said, then looked down at my wrist. There was a small blister there, one that probably had built up in the last hour or so while I had been here with him. He kissed the blister, and it healed.

"They have you tied up tight, huh," he said, quietly.

"Yeah," I said. "It's pretty uncomfortable. I have my hands behind my back like this..." I demonstrated. "And my legs are tied together at the ankle."

"So you can't move much at all," Adrian said. "God. I'm so sorry, Sage."

"It's ok," I said. "Being here helps a lot."

"Hmm," Adrian said, standing up and moving to the grassy area near the tables. "I have a sort of weird idea." He spread a red blanket out on the grass and said, "Why don't you lie down now, on the blanket, and try to bring the ties here? You know, into the dream."

"Bring them here?" I repeated, dumbly.

"Yeah," Adrian said. "Like you did with the Port wine. Or my t-shirt that time."

"But that was different," I said. "You were with me. We..."

"I'm with you now," Adrian said. "If it makes you feel better, we can say that it's my magic doing it. But let's just try. Because if we can bring the ties here, maybe we can untie them, or at least loosen them."

"I'll try," I said. "But it won't work."

"That's the spirit," Adrian said, dryly.

I lay down on the blanket and assumed the same position I was in in the car. I thought about the ties, the way they felt around my ankles and wrists, their tightness and tensile strength. And then... they were on me. "Oh," I said.

"Shit," said Adrian, as he knelt down next to me. "If _I_ ever tied you up, it would be with something softer than this crap. I'd use a silk scarf or something. Or velvet lined handcuffs. Those could be fun."

"And who says I'd ever let you tie me up?" I said. Adrian's fingers were busy at my wrists.

"I'm just saying, Sage. Just saying. _If_." He was still working at the knots, which were apparently giving him some trouble. "You know, maybe you could tie _me_ up sometime – if you wanted to. Hey, it's the alchemist dream – having a Moroi helpless in front of her. And you could... how did they tie this?... you could run all sorts of experiments on me." I could hear the grin in his voice.

"Most alchemists don't play sex games with Moroi," I said, my voice a little unsteady. My mind was giving me a slide show of images that were not so conducive to keeping a steady heart-rate.

"Well, most Moroi aren't... damn it! …. this good looking," Adrian said. "OK, I think I have it... there."

The rope slid off my hands, and Adrian showed it to me. "Twine," I said. "You can get it at any hardware store."

"No respect," Adrian said. "Classy lady like you deserves something better than cheap twine."

I clasped my hands behind my back again. "OK," I said. "Now tie me up again."

Adrian raised an eyebrow. "Really, Sage? I don't know if we have time for that..."

"Tie the rope up so that it looks a lot like it used to look, but is much looser," I said. "Please."

"Sigh," Adrian said. "This could be so much fun under other circumstances." He leaned around me to kiss my cheek, and I turned my head so that we could just barely touch lips. "But I see the point," he continued, as he started on his task. "You want it to look the same, right? But to slip on and off?"

"Exactly," I said.

It took Adrian a minute or two to finish tying the twine in an acceptable configuration. I demonstrated my ability to shimmy in and out of the binding, and then we untied and retied the twine at my ankles in a similar way. Then I shimmied back out of the bindings, and looped one around my wrist and the other around my ankle, like some sort of extremely unfashionable jewelry. I didn't want them far from me, in case I woke up suddenly.

"We'll put them back on properly before I wake up," I said. "Just not... you know. This second."

"Fair," Adrian said. "So... Do I get any props for the idea?"

"You do," I said. "It was brilliant."

"Thank you, thank you," said Adrian, bowing his head. "And think what this means, if it works. It means you might be able to get away from these guys, you know? They'd never expect you to just leap out of the car..."

"Hmm," I said. "I guess I could, at that. Hmmm." I closed my eyes in concentration, and when I opened them, two quarters had appeared in the palm of my hand. I tucked them into my bra for safe keeping. Adrian watched this process with delight.

"It's in case I need to call you," I said. "I don't know if the quarters will come through when I wake up, but it's worth it to try."

"You're making counterfeit cash now?" Adrian said. "Why not go bigger? You could stick a Benjamin in there. Screw quarters."

I smiled. "I pulled the coins from the spare change on my desk back in Palm Springs," I explained. "I don't have any hundreds handy."

"Well, when you want to start counterfeiting, let me know," Adrian said. "We need some way to support ourselves until my trust fund kicks back in, in full. It could be years and years."

That was the third or fourth time today that Adrian had talked about our future together like that. He just seemed to sure that it would come to pass, that we'd be together for a long, long time. It made me feel strangely shy, and I had no idea what to say in response. So I just decided to treat it like all our banter. Banter, I could deal with. "OK," I said, in what I hoped was a light tone. "I've broken all the laws of nature, so I might as well start breaking some human laws."

"That's the spirit, love," Adrian said. He pulled me to him and I leaned against his chest. "Do you really think of it that way?" he murmured, a few seconds later. "Like you're breaking the laws of nature being with me?"

"In some ways, maybe," I said, slowly. Adrian made a sort of "hmmph" noise, and I said, "Oh come on, it's weird for you too, and you know it. You're hardly going to march into court and announce to the world that you're dating a human. All the scenarios you plan for the future seem to involve us running away together to someplace that no one knows either of us."

"That's to protect _you_," Adrian said. "I don't give a rat's ass what other people think. You're hot. You're brilliant. You're brave, funny, sweet, and a tiger in the sack –"

"You think I'm 'sweet'?" I interrupted, puzzled.

"I meant that literally," Adrian said, grinning, and leaned over and licked my cheek. "Yum!" I wiped my cheek with the back of my hand, and Adrian laughed. "In any case, I'd be proud to show you off to Queen Vasilisa herself - I mean, when she's in her right mind, of course. You're the one with the 'nature' complex, Sage."

"Well," I said, slowly. "I can't help how I was raised. But you know, a lot of things break the laws of nature. Plate tectonics, for example. The plates moving should generate tons of heat, but they don't. And polar bears sometimes go against nature and mate with grizzly bears, making offspring that people call 'grolar bears'. And a year or two ago, physicists in New York shoved atoms into a super-collider, sped them up to nearly the speed of light, and then basically melted them, which is completely impossible. Oh, and biologists thought the coelacanth was extinct, and by all rights it should have been, since it hasn't evolved in hundreds of millions of years, but there it was, just hiding out in a bay near Africa..."

"Your point, sweetheart?" Adrian said gently, before I could get to my next example.

"My point is that, when you get down to it, most laws of nature are just suggestions," I concluded.

Adrian smiled. "I like that," he said.

"And..." I added. "It felt really unnatural when we were broken up."

"It did," agreed Adrian. "Although it was almost worth it for that make-up night. Whew! The best part was when you threw me up against the wall in the hallway."

"That was the _best_ part?"

"I also liked the part when you..." Adrian leaned close to me and whispered in my ear for a bit. I remembered everything that he was talking about, but hearing it said out loud, even in a whisper, was different. My pulse rate began to spike, and blood-flow began to change in my body.

"Adrian," I whispered. "We-"

"That was a good part too," Adrian murmured. "When you said my name finally. I loved that."

"Adrian, we can't-"

"Yeah," he said. "Just like that. Say it again."

"We can't do this," I said. "It's making my heart-rate shoot up and my breathing is getting heavy and I think I'm blushing. I don't know what my body is doing back in the car, but I don't want the guys noticing me in the middle of what looks like a sex dream!"

"Hmm," Adrian said. "I guess that's fair." He sighed.

"I hate to say it, but we probably should wake up, anyway," I said. "Trust me, I really don't want to, but... I think it's time."

"I know," Adrian said.

Neither of us moved. "I'll go in a minute or two," I said, and then laughed a little. "God grant me the willpower... but not yet," I said, deliberately misquoting Saint Augustine.

"Come here," Adrian said, and we lay cuddled up for a few minutes on the blanket, not saying a word. I listened to Adrian's heart, happy, as always, to confirm that he was alive, that he was warm – that he was nothing like a Strigoi. After a while, Adrian chuckled a little, a low, musical sound in his chest. "I still can't believe you threw a pie at me, Sage. You've gotten so... sassy. It's awesome."

"I was always sassy," I said, primly.

"I guess you were," Adrian said. "But you were hiding your inner pie-thrower deep inside your heart."

"Well, I think you've learned not to tickle me," I said.

Adrian laughed that wonderful rich laugh of his. "I wouldn't dare tickle you," he said. And after that we lapsed into silence for another few minutes, still cuddled up on the blanket.

When I couldn't put it off any longer, I said, "OK, Adrian, it's time."

"Yeah," Adrian said. "I should wake up and think nice thoughts to little Jailbait for a bit, on the off-chance that she can hear me. And I'll be social with the nice girls who are driving me. And you should listen to your stupid goons some more and see if they happen to mention their last names or social security numbers."

"At the rate they're going, it's just a matter of time," I said.

"Here's hoping," Adrian said, then added in a brisk tone, "Well, if you're going, should I retie the ties?" He gave the twine wrapped around my wrist a disgusted look.

"Yeah, I guess so," I said, moving back into the position that I held in the car.

"Only alchemist dorks like those guys could take the fun out of tying up your girlfriend," Adrian said, as he placed the ties back around my wrists and ankles so that they looked like they used to. Then he lay down so that he was facing me. "You ready?" he asked, stroking my face with his fingertips.

"Ready as I can be, considering," I said.

"OK," he said. "Don't worry. You're tough and awesome, and you'll get through this. And I'm tough and awesome too and I'm going to save you. I promise."

"I know," I said.

"I love you," he said. "And I'll see you soon in person. And we'll go someplace warm and quiet and dark."

"Hmmm," I said, smiling. "I'll hold you to that."

He kissed me softly, and I closed my eyes...

… and opened them. I was back in the car. My lips were still tingling from the kiss. I blinked away a few stray tears and tested the bonds on my wrists. They were loose! I sent up a quick thankful prayer to God.

There was silence in the car, except for the faint sounds of the game Joe was playing on his phone. The sky was still blue, the scenery was still scrolling past my window, and no one seemed to be thinking about me. Well, that was another of their mistakes.

Adrian and I might be the only two people on our crack team, I reflected, but we had gotten a lot done while I was still sort of trapped in the cargo hatch of the car.

"Watch out, Gold Cross," I thought, smiling coldly. "Maybe I would have been easy to take down a year ago, but I'm a very dangerous person now. I'm like a mother lion watching her cubs. I have a life and a love to protect. And I'm not going down without a fight."

I felt like Rose would have been proud of me.


	39. II: Please Save My Life

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 5: Please Save My Life  
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After I woke up from my visit with Adrian, I spent a fairly comfortable half hour or so in the back of the car, just waiting. Joe seemed to be a little frustrated with his cell phone game – he kept muttering things like, "I'll get you next time, pig!" – so he was paying no attention whatsoever to me. This meant that I could slide one hand out of my twine loops and scratch a few itches. It was heaven.

And in this fairly comfortable state, I had time to simply enjoy the very soft rumble of the engine again. My hands and feet had proper circulation, nothing itched, and I wasn't hungry or thirsty or tired. Best of all, I knew that Adrian was only an hour or two behind me.

I fantasized about how it would be when he finally caught up. The Jeep would pull over for some reason, and another car, a red one of course, would pull over nearby. The guys would get out, and one of them would just mysteriously fall to the ground, asleep. And then I'd leap out of the car and begin using some of the moves that Eddie had taught me. To be fair, some of them really had to be categorized not as self defense, but rather as "other-person-offense," and it would be wonderful to "offend" Gold Cross right in his nasty smug face.

In my daydream, after we took down the guys, we'd take off in the Jeep SRT8. After all, it was an extremely fast car! We would burn rubber down the interstate, and Adrian would put his arm around me as I drove us to the nearest airport. There, he'd talk our way onto a private jet where there would be a bed, and it would take us to a tropical island, where we would lie in a hammock and eat grapes... I almost laughed out loud. It was the dumbest daydream, but the crazy thing was, it could actually come true. When Adrian was around, the strangest things had a tendency to happen.

But it had to wait until Adrian caught up. Until then, it was just me and the Jeep, which I had finally decided to name Caliban, after the character in Shakespeare's _The Tempest_. I had always felt sorry for Caliban. He was a villain, sure, but it wasn't completely his fault. Prospero had never really given him a chance. Maybe, if Propsero hadn't enslaved and insulted him, Caliban would have turned out good. Anyway, Caliban the car had a similar problem. It wasn't a bad car. It just had bad owners. I patted the rough carpeting under me, wishing that I really would be able to take the car with me when I escaped. It wouldn't be theft if I did. It would be liberation.

We drove on, and time passed. Joe cursed at his game, fluently and creatively. I stretched my hands up over my head, enjoying the movement and the knowledge that no one would notice me. My hand bumped into something – the empty paper coffee cup that Joe had left in the cargo area, earlier, when he had checked on me. I pulled the cup nearer so that I could take a look at it, mainly because I had nothing else to do. It was just a standard paper cup, nothing special about it other than the tantalizing whiff of coffee that it emitted. I stared down to the bottom, wondering if there was even a drop of coffee left, but instead, I saw a small rolled up piece of paper. Moving very slowly so as not to make a sound, I slipped one of my hands out of my ties, withdrew the paper from the cup, and examined it closely. It was a credit card receipt, and at the bottom was the name David Wheldon.

I stared at the receipt in disbelief. I knew his full name now! Quiet Dave from the front seat was named David Wheldon! Or, actually... I wrinkled up my nose in thought. Gold Cross had said something about the credit card that their father had lent them. It was possible that David Wheldon was their father, and that _this_ Dave was really David Wheldon, _Junior_. Regardless, coming across this receipt was almost too good to be true. That meant Gold Cross, most likely, had the last name of Wheldon as well. If I ever found out his first name, I'd know the first and last name of two of my captors – the two more influential ones, by the looks of it.

I wanted to do exult, loudly. I wanted to sing Glorias and Hosannas. Instead, I forced myself to stay calm and still. I tucked the receipt into my pocket, then I slipped my hands carefully back into the twine loops, keeping my breathing slow and steady. When I was done, I resolved to go back to sleep and pass the information on to Adrian, who would be able to start searching for information on my captors via his smart phone as soon as he woke up. It would be good to check in on him, anyway. He could tell me how close to me they were getting. Maybe we'd come up with some sort of signal to let me know that his car was behind mine, like a particular series of beeps, or a way for me to confirm that this car was the right one. We probably should have done that before, I realized.

I took a few deep breaths. I had slept so much today that it wasn't going to be easy to go back to sleep. There was also the paradoxical problem of how excited I was about falling asleep, knowing that sleep would bring me to the boyfriend I was nuts about. Feeling excited about sleeping tends to have an overall detrimental effect on one's ability to sleep. I sighed quietly and tried to list prime numbers greater than 1000. There was 1009... 1013... 1019...

I had gotten as far as 1039 when Joe's whiny voice startled me out of my slight doze. "Guys? I gotta take a serious leak over here." Sometimes, Joe's New York City accent made me smile. The way he said "here" almost sounded like the word had two syllables.

"Thanks for sharing," said Gold Cross's rude voice from the front seat.

"Actually," Dave said calmly, "I wouldn't mind it if we stopped either."

I thought of the coffee they'd drunk, and nodded to myself. It was pretty much par for the course. With any luck, they'd get more coffee and start the cycle all over again.

"There's a rest stop about 5 or 10 miles up the road," Joe said. I heard paper rustle. "It's marked on the map."

"We don't need a rest stop," Gold Cross said. "Too many people. They might look in the back of the car, you know?"

"I guess," Joe said. "But..."

"We'll just drive until we see a good place to pull over," Dave said. "With some trees and stuff."

"I hate whizzing by the side of the road," Joe said. "People might see you."

Gold Cross laughed. "I bet you're one of those guys who goes into a stall to piss, right? Won't even use the urinal if there's another dude in the room?"

Joe was silent for a moment, then said, in a stubborn voice, "I like my privacy, OK? I don't think it's weird. Anyway, fine. Side of the road is fine. Wherever."

"Way to man up," Gold Cross said, sarcastically.

My heart sank. For a moment, I had thought that Joe would get them to choose the rest stop, which might have encouraged them to dally a while – maybe get more coffee, or some snacks, or whatever. The more time they wasted, the better. But nope. They were going to go pee in the bushes like dogs. It was uncanny how well Adrian had predicted it.

"We can't stop for too long," Dave said. "I really want to get there before it's too dark. I hate driving at night."

"You're not the one driving," Gold Cross said.

"I still want to get there before dark," Dave said. "The truck shuts down at night. There won't be anything to eat."

That was the second time I had heard the guys mention "the truck." It was sort of annoying since I had no idea what it meant. I pictured a huge fire truck that we'd all ride around in. This was starting to feel like a Roald Dahl book. _Sydney and the Giant Fire Truck_. Dave and Gold Cross could be Aunt Spiker and Aunt Sponge and... Oh, I was getting loopy, for sure.

"Any word come in from your father?" Joe asked from the back seat. "Are they mad or anything that we're taking so long?"

"No," Gold Cross said. "We're fine."

"Dad says Creep-a-droo is AWOL," Dave said. "Central can't find him. That's kind of a problem, because we need him for Sage, don't we?"

"I guess we could just use alchemist methods," Gold Cross said. "And good old-fashioned elbow grease."

"I don't think it'll be grease on her elbows," Dave said, and they both laughed. I was simultaneously revolted and frightened. There was no benign explanation for whatever they were hinting at. "But don't they need ol' Creep-a-Droo to deal with the other one, you know, the creature?" Dave added. "Wasn't that the plan Central came up with?"

"What about the other girl?" Joe asked. "What happened to her?"

"You mean the creature?" Gold Cross said. "Why do you care what happens to that thing?"

"I'm just curious," Joe said.

"They took her to the elephants," Dave said. "Can you imagine having to be the one who drives her there?" He let out a disgusted noise, as if Jill were something to be disgusted _about_. I was glad that I had gotten to punch him, back in the parking lot. I was looking forward to maybe kicking him in the testicles sometime soon.

"I know where there's taking her," Joe said. "But... what goes on there?"

"It's the plan," Gold Cross said.

"Are you guys ever going to explain all this shit to me?" Joe whined. "What goes on at the other facility?"

"It's not your business, so mind your own," Dave said, and then added to his brother, "Hey, what do you think of right there to pull over?"

After that, they just spent a minute or two debating the relative merits of various stretches of highway in terms of pee-on-ability, and I was left to think about a few things. First, I had to decide whether I wanted to try to get away from the guys when they pulled over. It was tempting, but it only took a moment to conclude that now was not the time. Discretion is the better part of valor, and it would be stupid to jeopardize everything in my haste. The key thing was to go to sleep as soon as I could and pass along what I'd recently learned to Adrian.

With that resolved, I began to mull over the strange things I had just heard. I didn't like the sound of this creepy man, the Creep-a-droo, who the guys had mentioned once or twice before. I had no idea who he could be, or why he would be needed to "deal" with either Jill or me. And, for that matter, what were they planning for Jill? Earlier today, Dave and Gold Cross had mentioned her "pretty little cage," and how she'd get "peckish." I had deduced that they were going to starve her, possibly to death. But now Gold Cross was talking about eventually letting her go. That was good news, of course, but it didn't make a lot of sense. Also, what was going on at this "other facility" that even Joe was left out of? Were there actually elephants there? At least now I knew for certain that Jill was being taken someplace other than where I was being taken. It wasn't good news, of course, but it was nice to know something for certain. More details to pass along to Adrian. We could figure it out together, when the crack team assembled again.

After a bit of bickering, the guys finally agreed on a place with sufficient trees, bushes, and parking space, and the car pulled over. All three of the guys got out, and I just lay still and waited. I tried to think about nice things, in the hope of falling asleep soon. After a few minutes, however, the left-side backseat door opened and someone got in. It was odd, because Joe usually sat on the right, and in my experience, people tended to stay on the same side of a car for the duration of a trip. Was it someone else? My heart leaped. Maybe it was Adrian!

"Hi, Sydney," said a very soft voice, the ugly, awful voice of Gold Cross. It was even uglier and more awful compared to how wonderful it would have been to hear Adrian's voice. "You're looking very lovely for a disgusting little traitor to the human race." I forced myself to keep calm. Words didn't matter, I told myself. "Yeah, very pretty," he went on. "I like skinny girls. Practically anorexic. Like you." Deep inside of me, alarm bells began ringing. This was bad. Also, where did he get off calling me anorexic? I wasn't anorexic. I was just...

But I didn't have time to think about it, because Gold Cross reached a hand down and touched my thigh. I tried to not to let myself shiver with repulsion as his hand roamed over my leg."No reaction, huh?" he said. "Still asleep? I guess you're completely unconscious. You might have brain damage or something. Well, that kind of thing happens sometimes. You could still be useful for some things. You wouldn't mind if I just took a peek, would you?" He used two fingers to lift my shirt away from my chest. "Nice," he said. "I should really look closer. There could be vampire bites on your tits. And if there aren't... Well, maybe I could put bites there myself."

I heard him climbing on top of the edge of the seat to get closer. There seemed to be a log-jam of thoughts in my head. I should ignore this, wait for the other two to get back. I should shout at him to stop. I didn't want to jeopardize everything. I didn't want...

"You fucked a vampire," Gold Cross breathed. "Guess you'd fuck anyone, huh? You wouldn't mind if I just..."

_Oh, hell no! _I thought. I didn't stop to think. I just slid my hands out of the ties and shoved two fingers directly into Gold Cross's eyes. While he reeled and shrieked, I pulled the ties off my ankles, then aimed a much more forceful punch at his awful face. He let out a bellow like an angry bull, while I climbed over the edge of the cargo space onto the backseat and tried to open the door. He was grabbing at me, and I was elbowing him away, and the whole time he was shrieking and calling me awful names. Why do guys like that always seem to call girls "bitch"? What is bitchy about not wanting to get molested by someone you detest? And if it takes bitchery to escape from a dimwit like Gold Cross, well... There are some kinds of violence that God must forgive.

I managed to get the door open and to climb out onto the ground, with Gold Cross still grabbing at me and calling me names. "Shout on, jerk," I thought. "Shout at me some more. Let's see how it helps you." With Gold Cross still latched onto me, I looked around briefly – no sign of Dave or Joe. I planted my feet firmly and, using the same move that had worked so well on Bryan, I flipped Gold Cross up over my shoulder and onto his back, where he flopped around like a turtle or beetle that had rolled wrong-side-up. The wind was knocked out of him, which shut him up, anyway. I took a split second to enjoy the sight, and then I began to _run_.

There was no time to think more, no time to look back at the car to see its license plate number. What did I care, anyway? I was out of there, hopefully for good. I ran into the woods that bordered the road, dodging roots and stones, until I was pretty sure that I was no longer visible to people looking into the woods from the road or the shoulder. As I ran, I found myself wondering what was wrong with guys like Gold Cross and Bryan. Why did the sight of a girl's body seem to bring out the worst in them? Did they feel the need to follow up on _every_ id-based impulse that ran through their tiny minds, or was it only the sexual ones? I wondered if their impulse to pee on everything was linked to their desire to hump everything, too, as if they were more dog than human.

Of course, now wasn't the time to figure this kind of thing out. It was time to make a plan. I hadn't originally wanted to run away at this rest stop, but that didn't mean I couldn't adapt. Plan B time. Fine. I checked inside my bra to see if the quarters were still in there and found that they were, pressed against the side of my left breast. That was good. So, what now? I thought through my options.

I could go back to the road and try to hitchhike, but that would likely just mean putting myself into view of my "friends" in the Jeep. I could keep running into the woods, perpendicular to the road, but that meant potentially getting lost in the woods with no supplies. This section of California was full of national parks and forests, and it was entirely possible that I could travel for dozens of miles without encountering a soul. Getting lost in the woods wouldn't help matters much.

My best bet, I decided, was to stay close to the road, but hidden from it in the woods. Joe had said that there was a rest stop five or ten miles up the road, and we had driven for a few minutes more after he'd said that. I did some quick calculations and determined that the rest stop was between two and seven miles away, which wasn't far. I'd jog there, find a pay phone, call Adrian, and then hide somewhere until he came for me.

My plan formed, I slowed to a jog, and began moving through the woods parallel to the road, using the trees as cover from anyone driving by. The jog didn't worry me too much, since I jogged five miles a day most days, if not more. I had to run a little more slowly than usual, for fear of tripping over the uneven ground, but other than that, it wasn't bad. I kept my breathing normal and made sure to land my steps on the middle of my foot. I'd be OK, I decided. I could do this.

In fact, I reflected, if the circumstances were different, it might have been a really nice jog. The sky was starting to get cloudy, which was always good running weather. The birds were singing and the ground was soft underfoot. If it only weren't for the murderous jerks following me, I'd be really enjoying myself. I had started running in the first place in order to help control my weight, but I had grown to like it. I liked the solitary pleasure of letting my body bring me somewhere else. It was a way to control my environment, because I could just leave where I was and go to a different place. What could be more powerful than that? I smiled and took off my sweater as I began to get warmer from the exertion. It wasn't likely that the guys were betting on me being able to run for miles and miles. It was almost like my secret super-power.

I imagined Eddie laughing at me for that. "A super-power? Come on, Sydney. You're just running."

"Yeah," I would tell him. "But don't you get it? It's like I'm my own car. I'm my own airplane. I'm transporting _myself_."

"You're just running," Eddie said, in my imagination. "But you're doing an awesome job at it. Keep it up, Syd."

"I could never run like that," Jill said, also in my imagination. "But I _can_ walk in heels. That counts for something, right?"

"Sure," I said. "It counts."

"_I_ run," imaginary Rose said. "I run a _lot_. I bet I can run a lot faster than you, human girl."

"Watch me, evil creature," I told her. "Watch me run. I might be faster than you'd think."

"I'm watching," Rose said, in my head. "And I'm proud. Keep it up."

I didn't have a watch, and I wasn't that great at assessing distance over uneven ground, so I'm not sure how long or how far I ran. It was longer than an hour, though, that's for sure. I ran, and ran, and ran, with my friends offering me encouragement in my mind, and then, when I reached the rest stop, I stopped to catch my breath and survey the scene in front of me from behind the cover of the trees.

The rest stop wasn't big. There was a small grassy area dotted with a few small buildings and a few picnic tables, a parking lot, and a little convenience store that probably charged three times the normal price for everything it sold. There were some people walking around, but no sign of Gold Cross and company, and no sign of Caliban. I considered my options. The moment I had stopped running, I had begun to really feel the impact of the run. I was exhausted, thirsty, and sweaty. My legs ached, and there were a few weird pains in my back. Also, I could feel the impact of the concussion even now, despite Adrian's healing. My vision occasionally lost focus, and my head still ached very dimly. But none of that really mattered, because I was at the rest stop. All that remained for me to do was to find a pay phone, assuming there even was one here. If there wasn't, maybe someone would let me borrow his or her cell phone for a minute. Either way, I'd be able to get a hold of Adrian, and soon this nightmare would be over.

I looked around carefully one more time, and then walked casually out into the main grassy area. I was keeping my eyes open for the guys, and also for a payphone. Unfortunately, a casual glance didn't reveal any payphones, and I didn't want to stay out in the open any longer than I had to. Was I just missing the phone, or had the staff eliminated it because no one really used payphones any more? I thought that the clerk at the convenience store would probably be the right person to ask. At the very least, he probably would lend me his cell phone if I asked for it nicely enough.

I walked into the convenience store, and the little bell above the door rang as I walked in. There was a dark haired teenaged guy at the counter, talking to the clerk, but there was no one else in line. I was about to take another few steps forward to ask the clerk where the pay phone was, when the clerk looked at me and said to the teenager, "Is _that_ your sister?"

The guy looked at me, and I looked at him. I was startled by his amber brown eyes, because they were so similar in color to my own. He started to smile, as if he was happy to see me, and then a split-second later there was a different kind of recognition on his face, mixed with confusion and even a note of fear. Almost at the same moment, I realized something very important. I had never actually _seen_ Joe.

"There you are!" the teenaged guy said. "I'm so glad I found you, sis!"

It _was_ Joe. Hearing his voice confirmed it for me. I turned and ran. It was difficult to run now. My body fought me at every step. But I ran as best I could away from the store entrance, passing, as I ran, the damn pay phone. Up ahead was the woman's restroom, which, I could see, had both a front door and a back door. I ran inside, hoping that I could hide out for a while, and then sneak out again later.

I ran in and almost immediately realized I had made a mistake. Though the restroom had two doors, it also apparently had two separate sections, and the two sections did not communicate. In other words, there was no way for me to pass through this section into the other, and no way to come out the other side. I looked around for any other way out, but there was just the door I had come in through, which was behind a long wooden screen. The only other items in the room were a few sinks and four stalls. I looked up and around, and saw that there were no real windows. Instead, there was just a thin sort of vent running the whole way around the wall near the ceiling. I decided I'd just sneak back out and try the convenience store again. I could explain to the clerk that I was _not_ Joe's sister, and maybe he'd help me. However, when I peeked around the edge of the wooden screen, I saw Joe crossing the grass, joined now by Dave. I pulled my head back around the screen as fast as I could, praying that they hadn't seen me. _Now_ what?

There were two other women in the restroom, washing their hands and checking their makeup, and both of them were eying my suspicious behavior very... suspiciously. "Hi," I said to one of them, trying to smile pleasantly. "I know this sounds weird, but, where are we, exactly? Like, what city are we near?"

The woman looked at my sweaty clothes and dirty legs, then back up at my face. I remembered suddenly that there was blood on the side of my head from the fight in the parking lot, and that I wasn't wearing any makeup to cover my tattoo. I must look scary and strange. "Why don't you know where you are?" the woman asked. "Did you escape from jail or something?"

"No," I said. "It's kind of a long story. But I could really use your help, please. If you'd feel comfortable lending me your cell phone..."

"I'm not getting involved," she said, and left. I turned to the other woman, but she refused to meet my eye and just walked away.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and had to admit that their suspicion was kind of justified. I looked a fright, and I knew I wouldn't get any sympathy unless I looked more presentable. Even now, when my life was at stake, it was all about looks. It didn't seem fair, but there was nothing I could do about it. I turned on a faucet and began splashing water on my face. As much as I hadn't wanted to waste my time on this, I had to admit that the cold water felt wonderful against my flushed skin. I funneled some of the water into my mouth and took great big gulps, almost forgetting to breathe in my haste. Once I started, I didn't want to stop. I was so distracted by how good it felt to rinse off my face and drink some water that I almost didn't hear the voices from outside. But then I heard someone calling, and I was almost sure it was Dave. I pulled away from the water, turned off the tap reluctantly, and listened.

"Hey! Gary! Over there! She's in _there_!" Dave was shouting.

"_Where _exactly?" Gold Cross called back, from farther away. Well, now I knew his name. Gold Cross was named Gary. At the moment, I barely cared.

"This woman says she saw a girl who looks like Sydney in the ladies' room!" Dave shouted. "Rear entrance!"

I went into one of the stalls and sat down miserably on the metal toilet. Since I was there anyway, I took advantage of the moment. I mean, it had been all day. But I had no idea what to do next. I stayed hidden in the stall with the door locked, my mind reeling. I was stuck in a public restroom while three guys who probably wanted to kill me were waiting right outside. One of the women I had asked to help me had sold me out to those guys instead. I knew that my religion taught me to forgive people who did you harm, especially unknowingly, but I didn't know if I ever would be able to forgive that woman.

A few women came and went as I sat there, unable to think of a next step. I heard hands washing, toilets flushing. I wiped my face off with the prickly toilet paper, removing a few last bits of dried blood. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to calm it down. I wondered if anyone would help me now that I looked a bit less scary, but I was too put off by my first to attempts to even try. Ten minutes went by, and then a voice came calling from outside.

"Hey, Sydney." It was Gold Cross Gary, using his most cheerful voice. "You're in there, right? You should have just told us if you had to use the restroom."

I let a minute pass. Maybe they'd think I wasn't in here. With the other women around, it was unlikely that they'd come in, right? They didn't want to cause a huge scene. But then Gary called again.

"Come on out, Sydney. It's us. Your brothers. We're all waiting for you..."

Dave called out, "You don't want us to come in there and scare the poor ladies in the bathroom, do you? We don't want to do that, Sydney, darling." The menace in Dave's tone was clear despite the veneer of friendliness, and I understood the threat. If I didn't come out, they would come in. And they might kill any poor woman who was in here with me. Could I live with myself if I caused an innocent woman's death?

I left the stall and looked around yet again for some other exit, but of course there was none. Hot tears stung my eyes, but they were tears of frustration more than fear. I had come so far, and to be caught now was galling. As the men continued to call to me, a toilet flushed and a woman came out of a stall and crossed to the sinks to wash her hands. Her hair was dyed the exact same shade of royal blue as her shirt and pants. It was as if she were an enormous blueberry.

I caught her eye in the mirror for a split second, but she eyed me warily and looked away. She had caught on that something wasn't quite right about this, and obviously didn't want to get involved.

"Can you help me?" I whispered. "_Please_. The guys shouting out there aren't my brothers. They want to hurt me. Please, all I'm asking is, to just call my friend for me. You could even do it once you're back in your car. I'll give you the number, and you can just tell him where you saw me and just give him this one name, the name of..." I trailed off as the blue woman hurried out of the bathroom without a backward glance. I couldn't be that angry at her – she was probably frightened. But I had really hoped she'd help me. I felt a sob rise in my throat – sadness, terror, anger, even a sort of shame. I felt oddly abandoned by this stranger in blue, and at the same time, I was embarrassed that I needed her help so badly. I squelched all these feelings back down and tried to think of something I could do, _anything_, to help my chances.

There was no chance of falling asleep right now, with my heart beating like a jungle drum. There was no chance of escape, not without putting innocent women into danger. And things looked pretty grim for when the guys got me back. Gold Cross Gary might pick up where he left off in the car. Or they might give me another concussion that would make spirit-communicating impossible for a while. Or they might just kill me. That was possible too. Maybe Adrian would catch up to us, but it'd be too late.

"Come on, Sydney," called Dave, his quiet voice carrying through the walls with surprising force. "Your sister Jillian is just _dying_ for you to come out." I stood completely still as his threat registered. They were going to hurt Jill if I didn't surrender. It was obvious what I had to do: I had to surrender, and if no one would let me use her phone, it would be without contacting Adrian again to let him know what I'd found out.

_Sure_, muttered the Traitor. _Because phones are the only means of communicating other than spirit-__dreams. You should just lie down and die. _

"Thanks for the advice," I told her, but at I began moving again. I checked quickly in each stall, looking for something, anything, that could help me. All I saw was something small and black – maybe a small makeup brush? I picked it up, wincing slightly at the germs that were probably on it. It turned out to be an old eyeliner pencil.

I went close to the door and called out, "Give me just five minutes. I've been sick to my stomach." I didn't know if they'd believe that, but nausea was a symptom of concussions, and it was a plausible story. And plausible was really all I needed. They probably didn't care too much as long as I was going to come back out again.

I pulled the coffee receipt out of my pocket, and then, leaning it against the stall wall, I began to write with the eyebrow pencil.

"You have two minutes, Sydney," said Gary, in that cheerful voice. "Or else we'll miss you too much!"

"Thanks," I answered, letting my voice quiver. I was supposed to be vomiting, after all. I kind of felt like vomiting, if you want to know the truth, but I sternly kept my stomach under control.

The pencil was extremely dull, but I managed to write, "PLEASE CALL" and then Adrian's phone number. Under that, I wrote "TELL HIM: NAME = GARY & DAVE WHELDON." It was a cryptic note, for sure, but there wasn't a lot of space on the receipt, and Adrian would be able to figure out what it meant, if anyone was kind enough to take the note seriously and call him.

"Sydney? We won't have to come in there, will we?" called Dave. In reply, I let out a very loud vomiting noise. That seemed to silence him while I looked back over the note. Would _anyone_ heed my plea? Did it seem desperate enough? I thought about it for a moment, then added "BLESS YOU" to the bottom, then folded it in half. Finally, on the outside of the note, I wrote: "PLEASE SAVE MY LIFE."

Where could I leave the thing now that I'd made it? I briefly considered putting it by the mirror, but then thought that one of the men might go in and check for something like that. I had to put it somewhere that a woman might see it, but a man looking quickly wouldn't notice.

I remembered reading a study that suggested that in a bathroom with four stalls, the one that was used most frequently was usually third from the entrance, and that the one used least frequently was the first stall, closest to the entrance. The study was the reason that I myself usually used the first stall, since statistics would suggest that it was the cleanest. But the one I needed now was the one that was the most highly trafficked.

I went into the third stall, then propped the receipt on top of the sanitary napkin disposal box so that the phrase PLEASE SAVE MY LIFE was clearly visible to anyone sitting down on the toilet, but would be at an angle to anyone just peeking in. I was counting on any man who might peek inside to studiously avoid looking at anything even slightly related to tampons.

"I'm coming out," I called, in my wavery voice. I sent up a brief prayer to God and to anyone else who might be listening. Then I put Adrian's sweater back on - I had cooled down a lot, and I didn't want to risk losing it - and then I stepped outside and walked out from behind the wooden screen. All three of them were there. Joe was almost vibrating with impatience. Gary was grinning, and Dave was on his cell phone, talking quietly.

"_There_ you are, dear," said Gary. "We were starting to get worried that Dave would have to... tell someone something. About Jillian. Isn't that right, Dave?"

Dave said into the phone, "We have her back in custody. Hold to confirm."

Dave's eye was purpling nicely, and I was proud of the punch I had landed back in the parking lot. The bridge of Gary's nose was already starting to swell, too, which also made me pretty happy. That was pretty much all I had to be happy about at the moment – that and the fact that maybe Adrian would still catch up to us and rescue me. It would be harder now, though, since the guys would no doubt be more on their guard and would restrain me more carefully.

Gary put a hand on my arm. "Are you ready to come back to the car with us? We've _missed_ you."

"Yes," I said. "Don't hurt Jill, or anyone else, please." Gary looked around furtively at my words, afraid that someone may have heard me. "Don't worry," I said. "There's no one around."

"Go in the bathroom and make sure there's no one in there," murmured Gary to Joe. "And while you're there, check that she didn't write a note on the mirror in lipstick or something."

"Like I carry lipstick around," I said, disgusted.

"I don't want to go into the ladies' room!" muttered Joe, at almost exactly the same moment.

"There's no one in there, seriously," I said, as Joe went inside. "I don't want to risk you guys hurting Jill. Is she OK?"

"Of course she is," Gary answered pleasantly. "And she'll stay that way for a while yet." He exchanged looks with Dave, who gave him a cold grin. For all I knew, they were bluffing completely, but I couldn't take the risk.

"No one in here," Joe called from inside. "And no notes or anything, not that I see." I restrained the urge to cross my fingers as the seconds ticked on before Joe came out again. "It's all clear," he confirmed, as he emerged.

"It really would be a shame if an accident were to befall young Jillian today," Gary said, as we began to walk across the lawn to where the Jeep was parked. There were a few people at the picnic tables, so we moved at a leisurely pace, Gary's hand still on my arm, as if we were a friendly group. "So please, let's not have any more incidents."

I didn't bother to reply.

"Hey," Joe said, getting my attention. "How did you even get here? Did you run here or somethin'?" .

"Yes," I said. I was sort of proud of it, after all. And my sweaty condition had made it pretty obvious, so I didn't think I was giving away any trade secrets.

"We didn't think you'd be here," Joe said, a touch of admiration in his tone. "I was just gonna ask people to call us..."

"Shut up," Dave said, and elbowed him in the ribs. And after that we walked silently. When we got to the car – poor Caliban – I was shoved into the backseat, next to Joe.

I studied him for a moment. Even up close, he looked like a teenager, maybe 16 or 17, which made him a lot younger than I had originally thought based on his voice. With those amber brown eyes, he really could be my brother, though we didn't really have any other features in common.

"Are you uh, feeling better?" he asked.

"Guess so," I said.

"Gonna puke again?"

"No," I said, then added with more than a tinge of sarcasm, "Thanks for your concern, Joe."

"Hey, lady, I was just being polite," Joe said, looking offended, then added in a different tone, "Wait, how did you know my name?"

"Lucky guess," I said.

I looked up to the front seat, where I saw Gary in the driver's seat and Dave in the passenger seat. Gary had an alchemist bag in his lap and was rifling around inside. After a moment, he got out of the car, opened the left-side backdoor, and got in to the backseat, so that I was pushed to the middle of the seat.

"Hold her still," he said to Joe.

"Why?" Joe asked. "What the hell is that, man?" He was looking at the needle in Gary's hand. In fact, I was looking at it, too. It looked extremely sharp.

"Doesn't matter," Gary said. "Just hold her still."

"Hey, I'm just the tech guy, I'm not here for..."

"Fuck, I'll do it," Dave said, and opened his car door and got out. He then opened the back door on Joe's side of the car and gestured for Joe to get out too, and the younger guy did as he was told. Then I was sandwiched between the Wheldon brothers, which wasn't exactly my idea of fun. Neither of them smelled too fabulous, and one of them was holding a very sharp needle filled with heaven knows what.

"Hey guys," I said. "You really don't need to waste resources like this. You can just tie me up and maybe keep me in the backseat next to Joe so that he can keep an eye on me..."

Neither Gary nor Dave responded to this, at least not verbally. Instead, Dave began grabbing at my arms, trying to hold me still. I managed to push him away a few times, and while Dave and I grappled a little, Gary called, in a casual tone: "Hey Joe? Who knows if she made any phone calls while she was running around out there. Just in case she got through to anyone, can you have the GPS re-route us please? We need to get off 395 as soon as possible."

"Good plan," Joe said, and got into the front seat.

My heart sank like a stone into the bottom of a deep, deep well. All the fight left me for a moment, and Dave used the opportunity to pin my arms to my sides. Once I was immobilized, Gary began to push up one of the sleeves of my – Adrian's – soft cashmere sweater. I didn't know what was in that needle, but I knew I didn't want to find out.

I began to struggle harder, but it nearly impossible to move, much less do any damage to these guys. I made a mental note to ask Eddie how to escape from the middle seat of a car when there were two huge guys grabbing you.

"If you struggle, then I run the risk of fucking up," Gary said, still in that maddeningly calm voice. "Maybe I get this in your eye by accident, you know? Or I get an air bubble under the skin and kill you. I don't really want that to happen, but it would be on _you_, honey."

The idea of just letting someone stick a needle of something in my arm was anathema to me. But I saw his point. "Tell me what's in it and I'll hold still," I said.

"No," Gary said. "You hold still and get the shot, or you struggle and maybe something bad will happen."

"It's probably just a sedative," Joe said from the front seat. He had turned around to watch, momentarily distracted from reprogramming the GPS. "Something to make you sleep."

"Shut up!" Gary said.

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Dave said. "Yeah, Miss Sage. It's a sedative. Now stop it."

I knew when I was beaten. I held still as the needle pierced my skin. Almost immediately, I felt whatever it was kick in.

"Lots of elements in the drug," I thought to myself, as calmly as I could. "Euphoria most evident symptom. Might be Moroi saliva. Might be some sort of compulsion in it. It might be mixed with poison for all I know." I found myself giggling. "But oh whoooo caaaaaaares?" I slurred, out loud.

Then...

Then I drifted away to a quiet place, a place like a pile of black velvet pillows. It was silent, still, and heavy – so silent and so still and so heavy that I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't dream. There was no way I could find my way out of this place of stifling stillness, no way I could find the forest. The black velvet encased me, and I lay unmoving and unthinking for a very, very, very long time.


	40. II: Vigil (part 1)

_A/N: Hey guys. _

_So, in this section of the story, some not-so-nice things happen. It doesn't get gross or gory or anything, but it's a little scary. I'd say that it's not even really as scary/disturbing as a typical episode of Criminal Minds. Still, if you get frightened or triggered by certain types of violence, either skip the "Vigil" section (or at least this part of the chapter, part 1, which is the most intense part) or pm me to ask questions. I'd be happy to tell you more if you're worried. You can also peak at the story summary for Book II and spoil yourself a little by reading the Vigil section, to see if you want to read it. I really think it came out well and I worked hard on this section, but I understand why some people might not be up to reading it, and that's OK. If you want something sweeter, you can go read my other story, Endgame, which is completed (more or less) and is really sweet! :)  
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_I do hope you give this story a chance, though. I know that this section marks a change from the light-hearted beginning, but this was always where I intended the story to go, and I have a plan for the story I want to tell. In other words, there's a reason for all this.  
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**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 6: Vigil (part 1) **

For a long time there was nothing. No dreams, no thought. Just that stifling black velvety nothing. Then I began surfacing, slowly, up and up, as if through dark black water. When I did fully return to consciousness, I wished that I hadn't.

I was in a small dark room, about ten feet by twelve feet. It had no windows, and the only illumination came from a few small emergency lights set at intervals around the room near the floor. The cheap tiled ceiling and the rough gray industrial carpet gave it the feel of an unused, unfurnished office room.

There were only three things in the room. One of them was me. I was still wearing what I had been wearing before – the khaki shorts, the silk shell tank top, and Adrian's cashmere sweater. The second thing was a beach towel that was wrapped around me like a blanket. And the third thing was a toilet, incongruously installed into a corner. Bits of piping were still clearly visible, as if the toilet had been installed hurriedly and without much expertise.

I took a moment to assess my current state. I was a little woozy, probably due to the after-effects of the shot they had given me. I was hungry and thirsty, not to mention dirty and scraped up from my long run through the woods by the side of the road. I also had a mild headache centered in the middle of my forehead, which I attributed to caffeine withdrawal. I thought briefly of Gary's gross intentions and checked to make sure that my clothes were all in place, and thankfully, they were. Maybe he only molested girls when no one else was around.

Since there was nothing else to check on, I examined the beach towel more carefully. It was a little hard to see it clearly in the low lighting of the room, but I could just make out the design of an enormous Ferris wheel and the words "Luna Park," as well as an elaborate crescent moon logo. It was a cheap towel, the kind that leaves bits of fibers all over you if you try to dry off with it, but it was all I had to protect me from the cold air in the room, and it was better than nothing. I had never seen the towel before in my life, nor did I have any idea where Luna Park was. I wondered who had given me the thing, and why. Nothing else had been provided for my comfort, and a beach towel seemed like an odd choice.

I wrapped the towel back around me like a shawl, then I got up and began walking around the room on unsteady legs. The door was locked, of course. I examined the lock, wishing that I had my alchemist kit with me. Rose and Eddie could probably pull the door off the hinges with their bare hands. Nancy Drew could probably jiggle open a lock like this with a bobby pin. As for me, I didn't even have a bobby pin, so I just shook the knob a few times and sighed. Maybe if I found a paper clip or something, I'd be in business, but so far, the door seemed likely to stay locked. I got down on my knees and crawled around the room, feeling at the baseboards for any loose square inch of carpet, for any carpet tack or loose nail. Nothing. I squinted at the venting near the ceiling and decided it was too high off the ground to reach without a ladder. There didn't seem to be any other way out of this room besides the door, and there didn't seem to be any way to open the door. There didn't even seem to be any way to turn on the lights.

I sat back down on the floor in the corner, trying not to let my fear take over. Fear wouldn't help me escape, nor would frustration, or even anger. I had to stay calm. I had to consider my options. There was always one more way to escape any locked room, and that was to contact Adrian. I took off his sweater and folded it into a pillow, then wrapped the towel around me like a blanket. Then I lay down and set myself to the task of sleep. But the floor was hard, and despite my towel, I was cold. Sleep seemed unlikely.

The thought came to me that maybe I wouldn't be able to contact Adrian even if I could fall asleep. He hadn't gotten through to me the entire time I'd been unconscious, and I had to guess I'd been out for at least a day, judging by the extent of my caffeine withdrawal symptoms. Maybe whatever they had injected me with had prevented spirit travel, and maybe it would still be operating in my system even now. Or maybe the reason I hadn't heard from Adrian yet was that something had happened to him. But that was too awful to contemplate. Not my Adrian. He had to be OK.

I was still thinking about this – and still wide awake – a half an hour later, when the lights flicked on and three men walked into the room, immediately locking the door behind them. They set about walking around the room, examining the fixtures and ignoring me completely. These weren't people I really wanted to be in a small room with. Two of them were my friends from the Jeep – Dave and Gary. They were wearing jeans and t-shirts, and Gary's swollen nose was a nice compliment to Dave's black eye. I was pleased to no end to see my handiwork still evident. Alchemist technology was great for cuts and scrapes, but we still had a way to go when it came to healing bruises.

The third man was older, and his resemblance to Dave and Gary clearly marked him as their father, David Wheldon Sr. He was about the same height as Dave, making him about two inches taller than Gary, and had graying hair clipped short neatly around his ears. He wore a suit without a tie, and compared to the beautiful suits I was used to seeing Adrian wear, it looked cheap and poorly made. His golden lily tattoo was deeply engraved on his face, as if it had been gone over dozens of times, but it wasn't shining so brightly. It looked like my father's looked when he was due for a re-inking. He had a trim white mustache and goatee, and wire-rimmed glasses that sat on the end of his bulbous nose. He looked the part of a kindly older man, but he set my teeth on edge.

"We'll want a few chairs in here," he was telling his sons. "Comfortable ones, adjustable height. We'll need that table, the one downstairs, and a small table for my supplies, of course... And what's the ETA on that security camera?"

"I think Joe is –" said Gary, but at that moment, the door opened and Joe came in, trailed by another man, who was carrying a step-ladder. Joe himself was carrying a small video camera, and he had a tool-belt wrapped around his waist.

"Ah, perfect," said the elder Wheldon. "There's no time like the present, you know. Thanks, Joe."

"No problem-o, Mr. Wheldon," Joe said. "Should be done in just a few minutes, and then I'll be out of your way, sir."

The man who had brought the ladder deposited it in a corner of the room, muttered a brief farewell, and turned to leave. There was a bungee-like cord attached to his belt loop, and his key was attached to the end of the cord, so that he could unlock the door without actually removing it from his belt-loop. I sighed as I watched him leave. It would be difficult, maybe even impossible, to steal a key that was attached to a belt-loop.

_Don't give up, _murmured a familiar voice in my mind. _Don't get resigned. You have a life to fight for. _

I knew it was true. I might not be able to escape right this minute, but that didn't mean that my life was going to end in this room. I held my head up higher and smiled. These guys had no idea who I was, or what I could do.

The elder Wheldon was still discussing the specifics of what he wanted in the room – the exact size of the table, his favorite brand of office chair, and so on – so I turned my attention to Joe, who was working on installing the camera. He seemed pretty capable with his tools as he hung several smaller loops from the ceiling, in a spot near where a large hook was already hanging. I remembered what he had told Dave and Gary in the car: "I'm just the tech guy." I wondered what Joe was doing with this group. Did he really share their goals? He didn't have a golden tattoo, not even the faintest trace of one, but he seemed to be aware of vampires and to have an intense dislike for them, judging by his reaction to me and my relationship with Adrian.

My attention was drawn back to the older man when he said, "Sydney Katherine Sage." At that moment, Joe dropped the tool he was using. It clattered loudly down a few rungs of the ladder before it hit the floor. Joe apologized for the interruption and went to retrieve the tool, and the older man continued. "Miss Sage," he said. "I'll assume that you'll want to know why I asked you to come here."

I hated false niceties. We both knew he had abducted me; why didn't he just own up to it? I didn't want to play along with this stupid game. I just met his gaze with a blank expression.

When it seemed clear I wasn't going to say anything, Wheldon said, "Well, first I want to congratulate you on your... physical fitness. We had had a report that you'd been studying martial arts with the male dhampir, but our informant didn't think that you'd progressed as much as you had. So, congratulations. Won't you congratulate her, David, Gary?" The two brothers stared at me hatefully. I felt a slight smile turn up the corner of my mouth, but suppressed it before it blossomed. I was going to play this stone-faced. After another long pause, Wheldon continued. "If you can't be polite enough to acknowledge a compliment, then I'd like to get to business. Miss Sage, we'd like you to tell us everything you know about Rose Hathaway."

"Rose?" I repeated, astonished. "Why would you want to know about her?"

Mr. Wheldon coughed. "I think you meant, 'Why would you want to know about her, _sir_?'" I stared at him, and he sighed. "I know your father by reputation, Miss Sage, and I know he's a good man. He must have raised you to respect your elders."

I kept my voice even and my face expressionless as I said, "Well, he didn't raise me with the hopes that some day a strange group of men would kidnap me, throw me in the back of a SUV, tie me up with hardware store twine, inject me with heaven-knows-what, and take me to some dingy, empty office room. _Sir_."

"I don't know about that," Mr. Wheldon said. "After what you've done, he'd likely be glad to know that someone is trying to help you get back on the straight and narrow path. This is your chance to begin to make up for having... polluted your body and soul with that... creature." Wheldon drew his features downward into a revolted expression, as if he were contemplating eating a bowl of worms. Dave and Gary also reacted, and I saw, across the room, Joe shaking his head in disgust.

I still didn't react. I knew that what I had done with Adrian hadn't polluted me. It had been beautiful. It had been beautiful and intimate and meaningful and _fun_. We had made each other feel good, and it had come from love. I wouldn't be ashamed. I met Wheldon's eye and said, "Why do you want to know about Rose, sir?"

"Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies, Miss Sage," Wheldon said. "It's my job to ask the questions and yours to answer them. It's the least you can do, considering how you've betrayed your own race. That's why we've given you these particular... accommodations. It's because you haven't earned anything better. But you have a chance to redeem yourself, if you can help us find out what we need to know. You might even earn an upgrade to somewhat more comfortable accommodations, if you prove your worth to the cause. After all, doesn't our religion teach forgiveness?"

"I believe it does, sir," I said. "Forgiveness, compassion, kindness. I don't recall any mention of abducting people or holding them captive. _Sir_."

Dave stared at me, stony-faced with rage. Gary looked outraged, as if he actually couldn't believe what he was hearing. But their father just looked contemplative. "Not directly, perhaps," he said. "But we're taught to go to any extreme to do what is right, aren't we? And right now, we humans face a tough road. We have to make the hard choices to save our race. The ends justify the means. And you're going to help us, Miss Sage. Really, you should be thanking us for the opportunity. As I said, this is your chance for you to right your great wrong."

"I fail to see how being abducted and then trapped in a small room is any kind of opportunity for me," I said, calmly. "Sir." In my mind, I imagined Adrian muttering, "_Does this guy know that he talks like a Bond villain_?" I suppressed a smile.

"Well, on that we'll have to agree to disagree, Miss Sage. So. Let's begin. Why don't you tell me everything you know about Rose Hathaway?"

At that moment there was a timid knock on the door. Gary went to open it, and a few men came in, carrying a long, cushioned table. It looked a little like something you'd see at a doctor's office. Behind them was someone rolling an office chair, the adjustable kind with a mesh back. Wheldon sat down in the chair almost immediately, while Gary and Dave stood around, staring at me as if they were imagining me dead. The workers placed the table on the left side of the room so that one short end was against the wall, navigating carefully around Joe's ladder, then left.

"I'm not sure what you want to know about Rose," I said. "Sir."

"I've already told you, several times. Everything. Favorite color, favorite foods. Coffee or tea? Favorite music? Hobbies? Pets? Everything. Anything and everything."

"I don't know her favorite color," I said. "She uh, she likes fried food, I think. Unhealthy stuff. I don't know much about what music she likes, and I don't think she really has time for hobbies or pets, since she's so busy. I really can't think of anything to tell you about her. Sir."

I didn't know why he was collecting this information, but I knew that I was walking a tightrope here. I wanted it to look as though I were cooperating, but I didn't want to betray Rose. I had to hope that it was neither useful nor particularly surprising for them to find out that she liked unhealthy food. Anyone who had spent more than a few hours in her presence probably knew that. And it was true that there were a lot of things that I didn't know about Rose. I hoped that I would be able to balance ignorance with flat-out lies and keep up a reasonable facade.

"Fine, fine," Wheldon said, looking down at a clipboard as if he were ready to take notes. "Tell me about her relationship with that male dhampir. The Russian."

"Dimitri?" I said. "I believe that they're serious. I've heard that she lives with him now. Sir."

"How did they meet?"

"I'm not sure," I said. "Sir."

He looked up sharply. "I'm afraid that I won't be tolerating lies," he said.

"I'm not lying," I said. "I know he was her teacher, but I don't know about the exact moment that they met. Presumably at school. She never talked about that. We're not close..."

"I have it been informed that you call Rose on occasion, asking for advice on a variety of matters. It is reasonable to assume that you know _something_ about her."

"I do know _something_ about her," I said. "But..."

"Sir," he corrected.

"Sir," I repeated. "But really, I don't know if I could tell you anything that isn't common knowledge."

Wheldon turned to his sons. "Gary, David, would you mind bringing Miss Sage over to the table, please?"

Gary and David both began to smile, and that didn't bode well. I looked over at Joe, but he was studiously looking away. Gary and David strode over to my side of the room – it only took them a few seconds – and yanked me to my feet roughly.

"You could just _ask_ me to stand up," I said, as they half dragged me over to the table. They picked me up and plunked me down on top of its cushioned surface. I didn't fight, not physically. I was outmatched, and there was no point in wasting the energy. It was three against one right now – four, if you included Joe – and the door was locked from the inside. So I let them put me down on the table, and didn't fight when they pulled bungee cords from a drawer and began to tie me to the table. Instead, I began reciting Psalm 23 to myself, under my breath. "The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..."

When they had me tied up to their satisfaction, they stepped away again. I could still move my head around, but my arms were bound to my sides, and a few loops of bungee around my lower legs kept me from being able to kick anyone in the face. It all seemed sort of surreal, more like an old James Bond movie than ever before. And Wheldon, with his gray hair and clipboard, was starting to look like Dr. Blofeld or something.

"So," I said, in a pleasant tone, once they had finished tying me to the table. "Do you expect me to talk?"

I half-expected Wheldon to reply, "No, Miss Sage, I expect you to die." But he didn't. He just adjusted the height of his fancy office chair so that he was directly facing me and then read a question from his clipboard.

"How did Rosemarie Hathaway begin her relationship with the Russian dhampir?"

"I don't really know, sir," I said. "Honestly. I think she found him attractive, I guess he found her attractive... I don't know how they actually began their relationship."

"I think you know more than that," he said. He removed something from his pocket – a boxcutter.

"Are you going to cut me with that boxcutter if I don't answer your questions, sir?" I asked. I was proud of how steady my voice was.

In answer, he ran the blade along my forearm. I let out a gasp of pain and surprise, then looked down to see that a red line of blood, about three inches long, was welling up where the blade had passed. I stared at it, feeling as if it were someone else's arm, someone else's blood.

I imagined Rose's snarky bravado. She'd say, "Is that the best you can do?" I imagined Adrian's dark humor: "I guess it wouldn't help to point out that I'm not a box?" But I had no snark, no humor. "I will fear no evil," I whispered, and then I fell silent, blinking back tears. It still seemed completely unreal, on some level. How could something so strange and awful be happening to me? Even my capture by Strigoi had made more sense than this. But the cut began to sting, and the feeling reminded me that this was really, really real.

"How did Rosemarie Hathaway begin her relationship with the Russian dhampir?" Wheldon asked again. At that moment, Joe hurried past, muttering something about needing to "tweak the external systems." He opened the door and disappeared. I got the impression that he didn't want to be in the room for this. It was a little cowardly of him, perhaps, but a significant improvement on the Brothers Moronic, who seemed to be enjoying the show. All they needed was a bag of popcorn.

"All I know for sure is that it started before she left for Siberia," I said. "Ok? So it must have started while she was still at school. I... I... I don't know if many people know that, because he was her teacher, and it was sort of... against the rules." The cut still stung. I watched as a drop of blood dripped down my arm, then looked away. It would probably hurt less if I didn't look at it.

I thought about what I really did know about the start of Rose and Dimitri's relationship. Once, when Dimitri was still in Palm Springs, I had overheard him reminiscing with Rose about "that night in the cabin." I knew that something had happened there that had changed their relationship, and going by the tender looks on their faces, I gathered that it was a lot like what had recently happened between me and Adrian. But I wasn't going to tell this man about that.

Thankfully, Wheldon seemed satisfied with my answer. "So they were romantically involved before she went to Siberia?" he asked.

"Yes," I said. "I believe so. Sir."

"And you met her in Siberia?"

"Yes, sir."

"Why was she there?"

"I believe she was looking for Dimitri, sir."

"Why was she looking for him?"

"Because he was a Strigoi at the time and she wanted to end his unnatural existence." All of this was relatively common knowledge at this point, and we both knew it.

"That's enough information on that for now," he said. "I'll be asking more about her relationship with Dimitri later, but for now, I'm interested in her other relationships, particularly her family. After all, blood is thicker than water. So, please tell me: what is her relationship with Abe Massour?"

That surprised me a little. I searched my mind. Was it common knowledge that Abe was her father? By now it had to be, right? "He's her father, sir."

"I know that," Wheldon answered. "But do they get along?"

"I... I don't know, sir."

In response, Wheldon slid the boxcutter across my arm, making another cut about an inch away from the first. It was incredibly painful, but I didn't scream. I just took a deep breath and let it out again. "'Surely goodness and mercy will follow me all the days of my life,' " I told myself, in my mind. " 'Goodness and mercy..."

Out loud, I said, "Sir, I'm sorry to tell you that there are many things I don't know about Rose." I took another deep breath and let it out slowly, managing the pain. "You may want to just kill me now and save yourself the time, if you intend to cut me every time I tell you that I don't know the answer to a question. Because the truth is that I will have to give that answer fairly frequently. Sir."

"I don't expect you to know everything," Wheldon said. "That would be irrational. But what I cannot abide, Miss Sage, is your lack of _effort_. You've seen the two of them together on multiple occasions. Tell me what you saw. You're an intelligent young woman, despite your bizarre decisions of late. I believe that you can make an intelligent deduction or two. So I'll ask you again. What is her relationship like with her father?"

"Let me think, sir," I said.

"That's a better answer," said Wheldon. "Think. Then answer me."

I thought for a moment. "I don't think she knows him well because she didn't grow up with him," I said, finally. "I think she pretends to get along with him for her mother's sake, and because he's her father, but she is actually really seethingly angry with him, and will never forgive him for abandoning her and her mother. She also doesn't like the fact that he's a criminal, since she herself is a Guardian, pledged to a life of law-enforcement. That's just the impression I get." It actually wasn't the impression I got at all, but there was no way anyone could know that I was lying. I also thought that Wheldon would be likely to believe a salacious story, and he did, thank heaven.

"Thank you, Miss Sage. See? Isn't effort its own reward? Now, tell me. Does she have any special nickname for her father that you're aware of?"

I knew Rose called him "old man" pretty consistently. "No nicknames come to mind, but I'll think about it, sir," I said, as politely as I could. "She doesn't call him 'Dad' or anything, for sure. Um." I paused, as if thinking. "Really, sir, I think she just calls him Abe."

Wheldon made a "tsk, tsk" noise, and then sliced at my leg with the boxcutter. Gary laughed out loud when I let out a scream of pain. It was a much deeper cut than the previous two, and though I couldn't see it easily, I guessed it was about four inches long. "Really, Miss Sage," Wheldon said. "Everyone knows she calls him 'old man.' And if I know it, then you should know it."

"If you already knew," I said, through gritted teeth, "then why did you ask me?"

"To see if you'd tell the truth. Come on, Miss Sage. We're not stupid. There will be penalties for falsehoods, as well as for lack of effort."

I took a slow breath, drawing it through my teeth, then exhaled through pursed lips. I was trying not to let the pain get the better of me. "Maybe I'd be of more use if I knew why you needed this information," I said. "Sir."

Wheldon was suddenly leaning over me, holding the boxcutter against my cheek. The terror that coursed through me was complete. I thought everyone in the room would be able to hear my heart beating. He looked completely deranged – more evil, in a way, than the Strigoi had when they had held Adrian and me captive.

"I ask questions," he hissed. "You answer them. That's it. You don't ask questions. You don't make suggestions. You don't think, cogitate, ponder, wonder, or expound. I ask the questions, and you answer them. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," I murmured. He slowly took the boxcutter away from my cheek. I blinked a few times to clear my vision, and a few tears dropped down my cheek. But only tears fell – he hadn't cut my face... yet.

Though the immediate danger of the blade against my face was gone, I started to feel really strange. Adrenaline was building in my blood-stream, and my body had gone into the "fight or flight" mode. But since I couldn't move, I was practically overdosing on the hormones. That, combined with the fear I had just experienced and the remnants of my old concussion, made me feel a little like I was going to pass out. I closed my eyes as the room began to spin.

"Oh, no, no, no," said Wheldon. "That won't do. Can't have her fainting. David, can you make up some Vigil for me, please?"

"I could do it, Dad," Gary said, immediately.

"I asked David to do it," Wheldon said.

A small squabble broke out then, as Gary insisted that he was just as qualified as David, David argued that he was in fact better than Gary, and their father tried to regain order. But I tuned it out. I was thinking about Vigil.

Vigil was a compound that an alchemist working in Alaska had developed only a few years ago. During the very long Arctic winters, Strigoi activity was intense, and alchemists had to work much harder than usual. The compound was originally developed to provide tired alchemists with the energy to work through a shift without any chance of falling asleep and potentially falling prey to Strigoi. Like most alchemists compounds, it worked via transmuting energy, rather than by binding to receptors in the brain like normal human medicines did. The basic idea of Vigil was that it changed tiredness to energy. The more tired you were, the more energy it gave you. The more you wanted to close your eyes, the less that you could.

And it looked like they were going to force me to drink Vigil. I had never actually used it. In fact, I had always avoided it studiously, having heard rumors of misuse and of the nasty side-effects it could cause at high dosages. Their reasons for forcing the drug on me were particularly disturbing – they didn't want me to pass out during the torture. Why? Why were these details about Rose so important to them that they were willing to pollute their souls with such pointless cruelty?

After a few moments, Dave left the room to go mix up the compound, while Wheldon continued his questioning. "What is Rose's relationship with her mother like?" Gary got closer to the table, close enough, in fact, to look me right in the face. I wondered if he considered himself a good Christian. I wondered if he considered himself a good person.

"I believe that Rose's relationship with her mother is strained, but improving, sir," I said. I adopted an ashamed look on my face, and added, in a quieter voice, "But Rose told me that if her mom goes through with marrying Abe, she'll never speak to her again."

The first half of that was the truth, while the second half was completely invented. But my attitude seemed to placate Wheldon. "Is that so?" he asked. "Why is that?"

My mind raced. Why would Rose be so strongly against the match? "Um," I said, and bit my lip. "You won't tell Mr. Mazour that you heard it from me, will you?"

"I don't often speak to that... thing," Wheldon said.

"Rose thinks that her father is a womanizer," I said, in a hushed tone. "She thinks he'll cheat on her mother. She also thinks that his gangster ways may get her mother fired from good Guardian jobs." That was all completely plausible, and completely untrue. Or at the very least, it wasn't Rose's opinion, and that was what Wheldon seemed to care about.

Wheldon seemed satisfied, not picking up on my lie, partially because it was so plausible, and partly because it was delivered with so much shame and defeat in my tone. I acted as if I just hated myself for spilling these details.

He asked me a few more questions. I really didn't know if Rose had any half-siblings, so I got another slice on the arm, which was as aggravating as it was painful. If Rose didn't know, how would I? I told the truth that Rose's favorite ice cream flavor was chocolate, reasoning that probably anyone could guess that. And I managed to embellish a little on the topic of Rose's hair, saying that she had been talking for ages about whether or not she wanted bangs. That conversation had never come up, but I had heard two teammates of mine on the volleyball team talk about it off and on the entire season, so I reasoned it was the kind of thing a girl might talk about with a friend frequently. Again, that seemed to satisfy Wheldon.

At that point, the door opened and Dave re-entered. He held out a large needle to his father, and even from where I was lying, I could see that it was filled with a bright yellow substance. I was surprised by the needle. Vigil was usually given by mouth, sprinkled into a drink. I opened my mouth to ask why they were going to inject it, but managed to stop myself in time. Wheldon wouldn't have answered me, and I would have just earned myself another painful cut.

The strange thing about fear is that at some point you can kind of max out on it. I was already so completely overwhelmed by what was happening that there was nowhere else to go, nowhere but back to my faith. "'And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,'" I whispered, "'I will fear no evil, for you are with me...'"

" 'He leads me in the paths of righteousness,' " said Wheldon, in a proud tone, as he examined the needle. He had heard me whispering, and had had the gall to recite a line from the same psalm. "Yes, Sydney. The Lord leads me in everything I do."

"And you think that this is righteous?" I said, knowing it would earn me another slice. It did – another one on the leg. "You think that torturing a helpless girl is the right way to earn favor with God?"

"You think that torturing a helpless girl is the right way to earn favor with God – _Sir_," corrected Wheldon, in a patient tone, bending to inject the Vigil into my arm.

"Sir," I whispered. If that was his response to my question, there was truly no point in continuing. The man was lost to all reason. I closed my eyes, waiting for the needle.

When it came, I was surprised. It didn't really hurt. The Vigil flowed into my system in a warm rush. Almost immediately, I felt as though I had drunk a double-shot of espresso. It wasn't unpleasant, actually. My eyes sprang open, as if of their own accord. I almost wanted to get off the table and do a few jumping jacks. I knew that this was bad – that my already increasing heart rate would just increase the speed that the blood would seep from my injuries. I tried to keep my breathing calm, hoping it would help.

And that's when the questioning began in earnest. Wheldon read me a seemingly endless list of questions from his clipboard. Did Rose enjoy being a guardian? Did she like animals? Did she take milk in her coffee? I tried to answer the questions with a mix of obvious truth and plausible lies, and was rewarded with a cut from the boxcutter on a fairly regular basis. Once or twice, after a particularly painful cut, I started to feel dizzy, like I'd pass out. That was when the Vigil kicked into overdrive, and I began to feel more awake than ever, and even more cognizant of the pain I was in. It also occasionally made my heart race, and when that happened, I broke out into a sweat. It felt almost like a fever. This stuff was definitely a lot different from a double espresso.

This went on for a while, maybe an hour, maybe two. And then when Wheldon was done – or bored – he finally stopped. I didn't want to look at my limbs, didn't want to know how bad the damage was, but there weren't many places on my body that didn't hurt. And then came a new, searing, pain, as someone – I didn't bother to look who – slathered some sort of stinging cream all over my cuts.

"If you're wondering what that cream is," Wheldon said, in that reasonable voice of his, "it's the wound preparation cream that you probably learned how to make in your earliest alchemy lessons. Only I've changed the formula slightly, eliminating the anesthetic properties. No reason to numb away your pain, right? You won't learn anything. But since we don't want you to die of blood loss, or get any serious infections, we still will treat your wounds." He leaned over me so that I could see his face. "We are not unreasonable people, Miss Sage."

I just closed my eyes. It didn't create any darkness, of course. In fact, whenever I closed my eyes, the Vigil kept shining in my mind. It was almost as if there were flashlights that shone directly into my eyes from behind the lids. But regardless, I didn't want to look at Wheldon.

Rough hands picked me up off the table, carried me a short distance, and put me down on the ground in the corner. I kept my eyes closed.

"Where did that towel come from?" Wheldon asked.

"I'm not sure, Dad," Gary answered. "Maybe it was just in the room. Should I take it?"

"No," Wheldon said, in a thoughtful voice. "No, let her keep it. She can use it to wipe away some of that sweat." He shuddered. He turned towards me. "Miss Sage, I hope you use this opportunity to think through the choices in your life that have brought you to this point. What could you have done differently? What should you do differently, going forward? I want you to really think outside the box, Miss Sage. I want you to think about how you can make things right. The good news is that Vigil administered intravenously is far more effective than Vigil administered orally, so you can look forward to at least eight more hours of complete wakefulness. I'll see you again shortly."

I heard them packing their stuff up, and then heard the door open and close again. The light flicked out, but it hardly mattered. The darkness of the room couldn't penetrate into my brain, where the Vigil reigned supreme.

I gathered up my courage and looked down at my body. There were cuts all over my arms and legs, even some on my feet. They had taken off my shoes and socks so that they could get me there, too. The modified wound preparation cream, far from soothing the cuts, had actually made them sting more, but at least I knew that they were disinfected. The other good news was that most of the cuts were pretty shallow. Three of them, however, were deeper and bleeding a lot, despite the cream they had applied. The worst was on my right arm, near the elbow, and I was a little worried about it. I got to my feet and let the awful nervous Vigil energy power me over to the other side of the room, where I retrieved my socks and shoes, then returned to my corner.

I was thankful that I had chosen to wear kneesocks that day, rather than little ankle socks. I wrapped a sock around my arm, and then used a shoelace from one of my shoes to hold it in place. Then I picked up Adrian's sweater and held it to me like it was the man himself. But I knew that someone might be watching me on the camera, so after a moment I re-folded it into a pillow. Then I wrapped the towel around me like a blanket and lay down on my least injured side. I leaned my cheek against the soft cashmere, letting Adrian's scent drift into my nose, and tried to rest, or to do something like resting, with my eyes open to prevent Vigil's blinding blaring light.

I tried to console myself with the knowledge that at least the cuts would heal relatively quickly, since they had been treated with the cream, and since my tattoo made me a fast healer in general. But I knew that all this was meaningless. Wheldon would just come back and make replacement cuts.

When? How long would it be before he came back? A few hours, at least, I assumed. He'd want to rest and have some lunch or coffee. Maybe he'd read the paper, his feet up on a chair. Maybe the paper would give him paper cuts. Maybe the coffee would burn him. Maybe the chair would fall over and his head would be smashed in.

But as much as I despised the man, I had to give him proper credit. He sure knew how to torture someone. I was in the kind of pain that by all rights should have just made me pass out completely, but thanks to Vigil, that wasn't going to happen. It was a brilliant one-two punch: the needle, then the knife. I had no source of relief. I had nothing. Nothing at all.

_No, not nothing, _said a familiar voice in my head._ You have half of the crack team. You have yourself, Sydney. _

"I have myself," I whispered. And what else? What else remained? A fragment to the Bible floated to the top of my mind. "'These three remain,'" I murmured. "'Faith, hope, and love.'" My lip trembled. "'And the greatest of these is love.'"

I had faith in God, and faith in myself and my friends. I had hope that I would find a way out of this. I had hope that life would be wonderful again someday, that all the promises Adrian had made me would come true. And I had love. I had so much love, _so much love, _that it was like a tidal wave inside me. That tidal wave could lift me up, I knew. It could lift me over this pain, over this awful drug, over this moment.

"Faith, hope, and love," I repeated. "Faith, hope, and love. Faith hope and love." As the Vigil blared through every cell of my body, _faithhopeandlove_ became one single word, whispered on the breeze far away, as if by someone else, someone who loved me.

_A/N:_

_I know that some people may not like this chapter. In fact, I considered changing it because I didn't want to get mean reviews. But I have a vision of the story I want to tell, and this scene, as unpleasant __as it was, is a major turning point in that story. Things are getting a lot more action-packed and intense. I think that you'll like it if you give it a chance. There are still fun and majorly romantic scenes to come. _

_I want to point out that the sad/scary/bad parts of a story are what make the happy/inspiring/good parts of the story all the more meaningful. Also, I hope that by now you've seen that my story is as much about Sydney herself as it is about her relationship with Adrian. I see Sydney as a hero in her own right. There are many different kinds of strength, and I think that Sydney is learning how strong she is._


	41. II: Vigil (part 2)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 7: Vigil (part 2)**

After an indeterminate length of time, the light flicked on and the door opened. I moved just my eyes to see who was coming in. It was Dave, trailed by Joe. Dave was grinning an unpleasant grin. Joe had a carefully blank look.

"Your eye is looking better, Dave," I said, ashamed of how weak my voice was, but proud that I was speaking at all.

"Wish I could say the thing about your arms," Dave said, with a cruel smile. "Or your legs. Or your hands."

"Yes," I said, breathing shallowly. "That's what can happen when someone cuts you over and over again with a knife just because he doesn't like you."

"That's not why..." Joe said.

"Shut up, Joe," said Dave. "Listen, girly. It's like my dad said. We're not _unreasonable_ people. For example, I'm here to make sure that you don't die." He threw something over in my direction. It landed about a foot away from where I was lying on the floor. I didn't even turn my head to look at it. "Go on. Don't you want to treat your wounds?"

"I would," I said. "If you gave me something to treat them with."

"We did," said Joe. He took a few steps and picked up the canister. "See?" he said. I didn't look. "It'll help heal the cuts, make them not hurt so much..."

I looked up at him. "Is that the real kind?" I asked.

"What does she mean?" Joe asked, glancing over at Dave.

"We're giving her a special version of the wound prep," Dave said, with a nasty grin. "It's anesthetic free."

"Why would we –" Joe said, and then closed his mouth suddenly, as if he were biting off the end of his sentence. He had figured it out.

"I'm not going to bother," I said. "It makes the cuts hurt more. I've got my tattoo, and you already put some of that stuff on the cuts before. They'll heal when they heal. In fact, they've already begun to heal. Just don't cut me anymore and I won't die."

"Look, girly," Dave said. His voice was still soft, but it carried clearly in the same room. "Put the wound compound on, or we'll put it on you for you. And we won't be gentle."

"You really should use the compound," said Joe. I looked at his face. He actually looked concerned. "Here, I'll hand it to you if you uh... can't stand up."

He took an odd, stumbling step towards me, and in the process, dropped the canister. "Whoops," he said, and picked it up while he pivoted slightly on one foot so that his back was to Dave and the camera. Then, in a quick movement, he pulled a different canister from the pocket of his hoodie - it looked like he had a lot of random stuff in there - and dropped the original one into his sleeve. The new canister was basically identical to the original, and his movements had been so quick that I wasn't quite sure of what I'd seen. "Here you go," he said, and then added, suddenly and a little loudly, "you vamp-loving bitch."

I took the canister from his outstretched hand. Moving very slowly so as not to open any of my cuts, I unscrewed the lid and began applying some of the cream to a cut on my hand. Almost instantly the pain began to fade. I took a deep, wincing breath, as if the cream were stinging rather than soothing me so that Dave wouldn't notice that anything was amiss.

"That's it," said Dave. "We need you alive." Then he added to Joe, "Stay here and make sure she gets all the cuts. I've got better things to do than to hang out with a vamp-fucker." He turned to the door, fumbling with the key attached to his belt.

"If you really want me to," Joe said. "But I mean, I'm just the tech guy..."

Dave ignored him and walked out.

Joe stood awkwardly, his gaze darting around the room, as I began to dress the cuts on my arms.

Another few minutes went by. It was slow going, but the relief was so overpowering that I almost wanted to weep.

"They, uh, sure cut you enough," Joe said finally. "Why didn't you just cooperate with them?"

I didn't answer him.

"You probably thought you were being loyal to your friend," he said. "But she's not really your friend. She can't be. She's not even human."

Again, I didn't answer him. I just began the slow process of trying to sit up so that I could reach some of the cuts on my legs. I had almost managed to prop myself up on my elbow when I accidentally put too much weight on a cut. I let out an involuntary cry and fell back onto my back. This, of course, was painful too. I heard Joe wince.

"They really went too fuckin' far," he said, softly. "Look, do you want me to do that for you? I'll be like, gentle. I took a first aid class once..."

"It's very nice of you to offer," I said, through gritted teeth gritted. "But why would I let you do that? And why would you want to?" I didn't really want to be rude to him, especially since right now he was the closest thing I had to a friend in this place. But I also didn't really want him touching me.

"It's just..." He trailed off. "You just look like you could use the help. And I got nothin' to do..."

"But I don't know you," I said, "and you don't know me."

"Well, I could tell you a little bit about myself," Joe said. "Then you'd know me. And uh, you could tell me about yourself. Then I'd know you a little. How about that for a deal?"

I looked down at my hands. I thought about Joe checking my pulse in the car, and remembered how he'd expressed concern about whether it was OK to let me keep sleeping if I'd had a concussion. I thought about the split-second of recognition in his eyes when he'd seen me in the convenience store, and the happy smile that had begun to stretch across his face. I thought about how he'd seemed so uncomfortable when Gary and Dave had been giving me that sedative shot, and realized that he had never laughed at any of their nasty jokes about Jill. "Well," I said, choosing my words carefully. The room might be mic'd, and I didn't want to get Joe in trouble. "I guess I already know that you're not quite as abhorrent as the Wheldon brothers."

"See?" he said, cheerfully. "That's a great start. Well, as you already seem to know somehow, my name is Joe. I'm 19."

"You're 19?" I said. "I thought you were younger."

Joe looked rueful. "Yeah, I'll be carded until I'm 50," he said. "So, what else, what else... Well, I'm a Brooklyn boy, born and raised."

"I had guessed that," I said.

"What?" he said. "The accent?"

"Yes," I said.

"Don't let it fool you," he said. "I'm not dumb or nothing."

"I didn't think you were," I said.

"And what else... Um, I'm a big Mets fan, so I'm good at accepting disappointment. I even go see their farm team, the Cyclones, every chance I get."

"Are the Mets basketball or football?" I asked, applying cream to another cut. The Vigil surged in me for a moment, and I had to take a few deep breaths.

"Baseball," he said. He paused. "I uh... like rainy days and long walks on the beach."

I looked up at him. He had a slight smile on his face. "Joe," I said, exhaling slightly as the anesthesia kicked in. "You made a joke."

"It must have been really funny," he said. "You're laughing so hard."

"I'm laughing on the inside," I said. After a pause, I added, "And bleeding on the outside." I could imagine Adrian's voice in my head, saying, "It's the cool new trend. All the kids are doing it. It's called bleefing." I smiled at the thought of Adrian, and Joe must have thought the smile was for him, because he took another step or two closer.

"So?" he said. "What's your deal? You're 19, like me, right?"

"Right," I said. I held my breath for a moment as a wave of nervous energy moved through my limbs. Vigil's energy built up again, and I fought off the urge to kick my feet against the wall.

"And you're an alchemist," he said. "When did you get your tattoo?"

"When I was 15," I said. The urge was passing, and I exhaled.

"So you've been on the job official for four years," Joe said. "OK, that's cool. My uh... my friend, she got her tattoo when she was 16."

"Your friend?" I asked, curious.

"Yeah," he said, but didn't divulge any more information about her. "And uh, your middle name is Katherine," he added, a little too casually. He looked away, as if he didn't care what my answer was. But something told me he did care.

"It is," I said, cautiously.

"Is that with a C or a K?" he asked.

"It's with a K," I said.

"Oh," he said, a little disappointed, then added, clearly to himself, "Hers was with a C."

I stared at him. He was looking away, up and to the right, the way people do when they're remembering something – or in this case, someone. I must remind him of someone, probably an alchemist named Catherine. I wondered who she was. He had spoken of her in the past tense, so it was possible that she was dead now.

If I could figure out what the connection was, it might be possible to use it to my advantage. This kind of thing was known as "social engineering." It was the art of manipulating people to get them to give away important information. I wasn't very good at flirting, or friendship, but purposeful manipulation was actually a strength of mine. I considered a few lines of attack as I dressed another cut with the wound compound. Silence descended in the room for a moment. I wiped away some more sweat from my forehead.

"And uh, what else about you?" Joe said, a moment later. "You sure know how to fight." There was more than a touch of admiration to his voice. "I didn't know you were the one who gave Dave his black eye. And then you flipped Gary off of you when he caught you trying to escape?"

"I wasn't trying to escape..." I said, not sure how to phrase this. "I mean, I wasn't going to try until Gary..." I trailed off. I was remembering something Jill had told me, which was that sometimes girls tried to trick you into saying something mean about another girl, just so that they could start up a fight. It was the kind of trick that Laurel was fond of, apparently. Did guys do that? Would Joe do that? I didn't know him well enough, I decided. I wasn't going to try to sway his loyalty by telling him what Gary had done. "Yeah, I did flip him off of me," I concluded, a little lamely.

"That's cool," Joe said. "I studied martial arts a bit, too. I want to be prepared in case I ever meet a Strigoi again."

"You're never prepared for them," I said. "No matter what."

"That's why we have to wipe them all out," he said. He was quiet a moment, watching me laboriously dressing my cuts. "Look, let me get the ones on your feet, anyways," he said. "Now that we know each other a little."

I looked at him, thinking. Compared to the Wheldon family, he seemed like decency itself. "OK," I said. "Um, thanks."

He looked over at the examining table in the corner. "It'd be easier if you hopped up there, maybe..."

"I'm not going to do that," I said flatly.

"Oh," he said. "I guess I uh, get that. Well." He sat down on the floor. "Wow, this floor is cold. And you sleep on it?"

I imagined Adrian's response: _Well, I haven't mastered sleeping on the ceiling yet_. I smiled a little, despite the pain in my untreated cuts. Out loud, all I said was, "I don't have much choice. And I don't think I'll be doing much sleeping in the immediate future."

"Guess not," he said. "Uh, when I reach for your feet, we just have to make it look like you're fightin' me," he said. "For the camera."

"Are there microphones in here?" I asked, putting the canister down on the ground.

"What?" Joe looked startled. "Oh, no. No. And I would know!" He laughed, then picked up the canister. "Hey, I'm going to put cream on your feet now!" he said, assuming an aggressive stance.

I held my face in a hard expression, and said, with assumed vehemence, "I'm trying to look angry! Do I look angry?"

"Really angry," he said. He put a thin line of lotion over one of the cuts.

"That already feels better!" I said, in an aggressive tone, keeping my face set in angry line. It felt strange to say the words that didn't match my demeanor, but I had to keep the act up for the camera.

"Well, isn't that just wonderful!" Joe said, with matching vehemence.

"Why are you helping me like this?" I asked, more quietly, lying back as if in defeat. Really, I was just relaxing a little, or as much as I could relax with the Vigil in my system. His touch was quite gentle. It reminded me a little of when Eddie had helped me after Bryan's attack.

"I don't know," Joe said, and paused. "My mother? She uh, she..." He trailed off, and I realized he was composing himself with effort. He sniffed, then continued. "She raised me to be a gentleman."

"Oh," I said.

"Now hold still!" he added.

It actually was hard to keep my foot still, as the nerves in the thin skin reacted to the anesthetic, so Joe grabbed my foot with one hand applied the lotion with the other. I was forcefully reminded of how I had put the lotion on Adrian's foot that amazing, horrible, beautiful and awful night, when we had found each other again in that dark apartment. My reserves were already completely used up, and I couldn't stop the tears from rolling down my cheeks as the memories flooded my mind.

"It hurts?" Joe asked, softly. "I'm sorry."

"That's not why I'm crying," I said. "I'm just remembering something."

"What are you remembering?"

"Someone I miss," I said. I was too tired, in too much pain, and too strung out to lie.

"Is it, uh, that vampire?" he asked. "Because I gotta say, Sydney, you shouldn't be thinking about him. He's an evil creature. You're a nice girl. This is your chance to forget about him and go back to the right path."

I sighed. "Have you ever even _met_ any Moroi or dhampirs?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, and his voice was suddenly cold. "A Moroi killed my mother. He drained her so he could become Strigoi. I saw it happen. I hid..."

He trailed off and my mouth dropped open. "I'm so sorry," I said. A long moment passed, and then I said, "An alchemist raped my sister. He didn't kill her, but he... he sort of drained her life anyway. She's never been the same."

Joe became completely motionless for a moment, and then continued applying the wound compound. "I'm very sorry," he said. I saw him wipe at the corners of his eyes with his ring finger, to avoid getting wound compound in his eyes. Both of us were quiet for several minutes, sharing our grief.

"Listen," I said, finally, in my gentlest voice. "I'm not defending the Moroi who killed your mother. That was a horrible thing, and heartbreaking, and I'm so sorry about it. And I sure as heck am not defending Strigoi. They are _monsters _in the most literal sense of the word_._ Two of them held me captive a few months ago, along with an insane Moroi. It was only through luck, and the help of a dhampir and two other Moroi, that I got through it. I... I still sometimes have nightmares about it, although I guess after this I won't." I smiled ruefully, though Joe didn't seem to pick up on my meaning. "But if you indict all Moroi and dhampirs just because some of them are bad, and because they have something in common with Strigoi – well, we might as well indict all alchemists, and humans in general, because of what happened to my sister, and because of all the other crimes that humans have visited on other humans. Like, for example, what the Wheldons are doing to me right now."

For a long moment after my little speech, Joe was silent. Finally, he said, "You poor thing," he said. "You seem like a nice girl, and a real smart one, too. You speak real good. It's hard to believe that you humped a vamp. You really been brainwashed. That vamp probably has you not knowing up from down, left from right. But you have to wake up. Haven't you figgered that even if we did somehow wipe out all the Strigoi, we'd still be in danger? The Strigoi will never really be wiped out until we wipe out the Moroi, too. Because all we need for more Strigoi to show up is for some Moroi to decide that 100 years of life isn't enough. Then all he has to do is find a nice-looking neck and drain away. And voila! We got ourselves a dead human, and a brand-new immortal Strigoi. Done deal."

I didn't know what to say. In some ways, Joe was completely right. It wasn't as if it had never happened. I just lay there, trying to think of how to reply. I knew that there was something off with his logic, but couldn't put a finger on it. It wasn't the Moroi who were the problem... It was... some quality that certain people, including Moroi, had. It was...

"I think I got all the ones on your feet," Joe said. "Do you want me to get some of these ones on your leg, while I'm at it?"

"Sure," I answered, faintly.

"Anyway," he continued. "And here we are, good little alchemists, helping the Moroi lead their happy little lives, leeching, literally _leeching_, off of poor humans, and occasionally just deciding that one lifetime isn't long enough."

I thought that over for a minute. "You're not an alchemist," I said, finally.

"My mother was one," he said, with pride. "And my sister."

"Oh." His mother, who had been drained by a Moroi, had been an alchemist? It was always terrible to hear of a fellow alchemist, especially a female one like me, who had fallen in the line of duty. "She must have been a very brave woman," I said, finally. "Obviously I never met her, but I regret her loss."

"I was only nine when she died," Joe said, quietly. "I didn't know her very well. But I remember everything she taught me."

"Yeah," I said, because I didn't know what else to say. For another long moment, Joe just continued dressing my cuts. Finally, I was able to articulate what I had been thinking before. There _was_ something that Strigoi had in common with the worst Moroi. It was the same quality that certain humans, had, too. I asked, "In your run-ins with Strigoi, did you ever... like... talk to them?"

"Not really," he said. He didn't elaborate.

"Well, I did," I said. I remembered Sonya, tied up and screaming before her restoration. I remembered the two awful Strigoi who had held me captive. I even remembered some of what Rose had told me about what Dimitri had been like during his time as a Strigoi. "The thing about Strigoi is," I said, "they basically all have the same personality. They're all really ambitious, for starters. And they're all super egotistical. Each Strigoi thinks that he or she is the best thing walking the earth. They'll all do something mean just because they can. And they really, really, really enjoy hurting things: each other, Moroi, humans, whatever. They'd kill a ladybug just for the hell of it. They love to cause bloodshed. They love to watch people suffer."

"Exactly," Joe said. "They're monsters. They have to be eradicated." He applied a thin line of wound preparation to the very last cut on my leg. I waited for him to finish before I spoke my next words, because I wasn't sure how he'd react to what I said.

"You know who else I know who fits that same description?" I asked, when he was done.

Joe looked up sharply. "Don't say that there's a human like that," he said. It was a warning, but I ignored it.

"There are several humans like that," I said. "The guy who raped my sister is a lot like that – egotistical, ambitious, cruel. But you know who else fits the description to a T?"

"Don't say it," whispered Joe.

"Mr. David Wheldon, Senior," I said, as if I hadn't heard him.

Joe dropped the canister. "That's different," he said.

"Is it?" I said. "Did you see his face when he was torturing me?"

"He wasn't torturing you," Joe said, immediately, and then bit his lip.

"What would you call it then?" I asked, and he didn't reply. "And his face, Joe. Did you see it?"

"What about it?"

"He was enjoying himself," I said. "Even if you believe that it was necessary for some reason to torture me, you'd have to be a sociopath to enjoy it."

"He didn't enjoy it," Joe said.

"Watch him next time," I said, speaking as gently as I possibly could. "I believe you when you said you strive to be a gentleman. I can tell that your mother raised you right. Think about who you're associating with."

"It's for the greater good," Joe said, forcefully. He sat motionless, staring at the wall for a long moment. Then he got up, taking the canister of anesthetic cream and leaving the other canister in its place.

A lot of thoughts were going through my mind: The light of recognition on Joe's face when he saw me at the convenience store – the first time he'd seen me with my eyes open. The similarity between our eyes. Joe dropping the tool when he heard my middle name spoken out loud. _Hers was with a C. _His mother, the alchemist, dying when he was 9. How old would she have been? _My uh, my friend got her tattoo when she 16._

"Joe?" I said. He stopped moving, but didn't look at me. "What was your mother's name?" I asked.

He didn't answer me. He just stomped towards the door and began fumbling with the key on his belt.

"Was it Catherine?" I asked. He stood completely still for several breaths. Then he opened the door and left without looking back at me.


	42. II: Vigil (part 3)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 8: Vigil (Part 3)**

Once Joe left, I lay almost still for a while, enjoying the sensation of my pain fading. I had to wave my hands back and forth a little to expend some of the Vigil energy, but I barely minded that. You never appreciate how wonderful it feels to _not_ be in pain until you've experienced severe pain and it goes away. I decided that, when this was over, I'd be grateful for my _lack_ of pain, every day for the rest of my life. With my fear and pain subsiding, the Vigil seemed to have less of an effect on me, too. It seemed that adrenaline didn't mix well with Vigil, for whatever reason, and I made up my mind to stay as calm as possible for the foreseeable future.

After a few minutes, I got up and carefully edged my hand around the container of faux wound preparation lotion that Joe had dropped on the ground. Turning over onto my side to hide my actions from the camera, I removed the lid and then rubbed some of the lotion carefully into a crack between the carpet and the wall, then closed the lid again. I wanted it to look as if a significant portion of the lotion had been used, in case anyone ever asked for the container back. When I was done, I pulled up a small section of the carpet that was a bit loose, and stuck the container in the small space. The container was small enough to fit, and the disarrayed carpet was hardly noticeable, especially if I could put my towel there to hide it whenever anyone came in.

I hoped that no one would remember that I had the bottle of the stuff. Even the kind without the anesthetic was better than nothing, and it might come in handy. After all, it was important to keep wounds disinfected. Further, the lotion would improve healing time, which would reduce pain in the long run. I hated having to waste it, but if anyone were to see how much was still left, it might cause problems for Joe. And I definitely didn't want to cause problems for Joe.

Thinking of Joe made me wonder if I'd ever see him again. I hoped that I hadn't upset him too much with my questions. Our "friendship" was tenuous at best and it would be too bad if I had ruined it before it had begun. Maybe, after he'd had time to think about what I'd said, he'd come back and talk some more. Some small hopeful part of me whispered that maybe he'd even help me escape. Probably not, of course, but it wasn't impossible. In any case, even if he never spoke to me again, he had done a wonderful thing for me today. Whatever his reasons for helping me might be, he _had_ helped me, and I would always, _always_ be grateful. I promised myself I'd never call him "the Whiner" again. _I'd_ probably be reduced to whining too if I were stuck with Gary and Dave for any length of time.

I lay back down on the pillow I'd made out of Adrian's soft sweater, cuddled up in my beach towel, and let some time pass as my wounds healed. I moved my feet slowly back and forth along the carpet, just to keep the Vigil in check. Drowsiness would kick the Vigil back into overdrive, I knew, and so, to stay alert, I began to think through some of the hard truths.

These guys weren't going to let me go. I was certain of that. They were just going to keep doing what they were doing, getting whatever information they could out of me, and then at some point, this Creep-a-droo person was going to come and do something else to me, probably modify my memories in some way. But until he showed up – and it didn't sound like he was going to get here anytime soon – I was reasonably safe. The things they were doing were awful, but they weren't going to kill me. I was going to make it through this. Pain was different from death.

And, I decided, I was going to escape before the Creep-a-droo got here. After all, at some point, they'd _have_ to let me sleep. A complete lack of sleep for an extended period of time could lead to hallucinations and even death, and they needed me to be conscious and ready to answer their bizarre questions. Once I was asleep, there'd be nothing to keep me from communicating with Adrian. And somehow, he was going to come get me. Even if I couldn't talk to him in spirit-dreams, I could still get rescued. Maybe someone would find my note in the rest-stop bathroom and call Adrian and he'd track down the Wheldons. Maybe Eddie would come to his senses and find me using secret Guardian detective moves. Maybe Rose would mobilize a _real_ crack team to come find me.

Maybe...

My head began to nod on my shoulders, and I jerked alert, my heart racing. The Vigil had kicked back in, and I felt as if someone had thrown cold water in my face, as if someone were playing a car alarm in my mind, as if someone were shining a police helicopter searchlight directly into my eyes. Everything was cold, and loud, and bright.

I opened my eyes wide and stood up. I was thankful that the cuts on the bottom of my feet were already mostly healed from the cream, because I was able to take a few halting steps around the room. Walking seemed to appease the Vigil coursing through my blood. I hated it. Despite the application of the numbing agent, I was still sore and achy from being bound and from the leftover effects of the adrenaline that had been coursing through me. I just wanted to lie still, or to at least _stand_ still. I wanted a hot shower. I wanted to sleep. I thought of Adrian's dark silky bed, Adrian's warm arms, and the quiet, the wonderful _peace_, of the sound of his heartbeat.

I decided that the first thing I'd do when I escaped this place would be to lean my head against Adrian's chest and listen to his heart for a little while. Then I'd take a hot shower. Then I'd sleep for two days straight. Then... No, I'd only sleep for 12 hours, and then I'd come up with a brilliant plan to save Jill, and the Crack Team would mobilize.

I was making a mental list of exactly which products I'd be using in my hot shower – I had decided on cucumber melon body wash – when the door opened and I was confronted with the cheerful face of Wheldon and his two sons. At the sight of the older man, my muscles tensed and my pulse rate sky-rocketed. It was a classic fear response, almost Pavlovian. I had to clench my teeth to keep from screaming, but I managed to keep my expression calm.

"How are you feeling, Miss Sage?" Wheldon asked pleasantly. I didn't answer. "How would you like some wound preparation? You know – the full monty?" He held out a small bottle, probably expecting me to beg like a dog for it. But I stayed perfectly still.

"You already gave me some wound preparation," I said. "Sir." Then I took a few low shallow breaths to make it seem like I was still in a lot of pain. I wanted him to think I was really suffering. It made him feel better, which helped put me out of danger. It wasn't important that he knew that I was winning this fight. It only important that I _won_.

"You didn't have anything like this," he said. He opened it and brought it close to his nose. "This is the real deal. You can almost smell the white quartz." White quartz was the ingredient that provided the anesthetic properties of the compound, and of course it had no real smell. Still, he made a show of sniffing the lotion. "Wouldn't you like some?" he asked.

Something about that awful grin of his made me reckless. "Are you going to give it to me or not, sir?" I asked, in a pleasant but business-like tone. "I don't want to waste your time, or mine."

Anger crossed his features like a thundercloud. He dropped the open bottle on the floor. I saw some of the lotion inside begin to drip out onto the carpet.

"It's funny that you'd suggest that you're so busy at the moment, Miss Sage," Wheldon said, his features contorted with anger, but his tone still pleasant. "You seem to be quite at your leisure right now. And an idle mind is the devil's playground. Let's keep you busy. After all, we still have a lot to talk about. And maybe if you're good, you can earn _that_." He gestured down to the container whose contents were currently leaking onto the carpet. "That's some motivation, no matter how much bravado you can muster, young lady. So, David, Gary, if you'd please...?"

As before, his sons came over to drag me to the table. This time I couldn't help but fight, as pointless as it was. I almost couldn't stop myself, so great was my desire not to get back on that table. For a few minutes, the two of them worked to corner me. I actually managed to duck and weave for a lot longer than I should have, considering how small the room was. But of course they caught me in the end, and as before, they tied me to the table. I wanted to close my eyes and pray, but of course the Vigil didn't let me close my eyes. So I stared up at the ceiling instead. I tried to imagine Adrian with me, holding my hand, telling me that I was brave.

"Well!" said Wheldon, cheerfully. He seemed to have regained his composure. Maybe he liked watching his sons screw things up. "That sure was interesting. I guess you needed your exercise, cooped up in this small room. And I'm a big believer in a sound mind in a sound body. So, I can let it go this time. We still have plenty of time to talk. We had so much fun talking about Rose Hathaway last time. I thought it'd be fun to talk now about the Ivashkov creature."

"You want to know stuff about Adrian?" I asked, trying to sound incredulous, rather than scared. "What's to know? He's an alcoholic party-boy womanizer. He's a trust fund baby without the trust fund. End of story."

"Oh, I already know all that," Wheldon said, pleasantly. "In fact, I know a lot about Adrian Ivashkov. I thought I might pass along some of that information to you. I mean, once you've told me the nature of your relationship with him."

"Relationship?" I said, scornfully. "We didn't have a rela –"

"Lies won't be tolerated," Wheldon said, still in that same peaceful tone. "We know about your evening rendezvous with him." He pronounced it "rond – ezz – vouze."

"Rondezzvouze?" I repeated, with the same pronunciation. I really wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about. Was he talking about the night after the art show? Did he know about the spirit dreams?

But when I spoke, Wheldon lunged forward. "I told you to that lies – won't – be tolerated!" he bellowed, and as he spoke, he sliced my arm three times with the boxcutter.

I looked down at the three new cuts, already spilling bright red blood. I took a deep breath and stared up at the ceiling. "Porto," I thought to myself. I pictured beautiful places, wonderful moments. I imagined the ceiling blooming with gorgeous purple _Ipomoea _trumpet flowers. I imagined the ceiling breaking down, and brilliant blue sky overhead. No, I amended. I didn't want blue sky. I wanted night sky, bright with stars, and a warm breeze. For a moment, it all seemed almost real, I put so much energy into the visualization. Then I looked back at Wheldon and was forced back into the moment.

"Which night are you asking about, sir?" I asked. "I am only asking because I want to understand your question better. Sir."

He smiled that awful smile of his. "I was talking about _all_ the nights you went over to the vampire's apartment," he said. "We have it on good authority that you went over there two or three nights a week." He leaned back on his heels, every inch the triumphant victor.

I didn't know how to respond to this. It was strange how completely wrong he was, and yet, how the implication he was making was actually more or less true. Sure, I hadn't really actually gone over to Adrian's place, but he and I had been hanging out fairly often. Suddenly, I remembered something Jill had said to me once: "You two spent so much time together. You always smelled like him!" Jill and Eddie had thought that I was somehow sneaking out to see Adrian, since his scent was on me from the spirit-dreams. I was sure that _they_ hadn't told anyone, but there was someone else at the school with super senses – someone who wasn't exactly my biggest fan.

"I guess you caught me, sir," I said, trying to sound miserable and ashamed. Let him think he was winning, if it made him happy. "But we were just having fun. We weren't in love or anything. I guess I was just drawn to the danger. I was curious. But I know better now. And anyway, the other night, we had a huge fight and I hate him now. And I'm embarrassed that I spent so much time with him in the first place. I don't know how I'll forgive myself. Sir."

That seemed to pacify Wheldon somewhat, though he still looked wary. "Hmm," he said. "Is that so? Because a little birdie told me some very interesting information. Are you aware of Ivashkov's current location?"

"I'd guess he's in Palm Springs, enjoying his new art success, sir," I said, indifferently. "I don't really care, though." I knew that if Adrian were hearing this right now, he'd understand why I was saying what I was saying. It was as much to protect him as to protect me. If these men had any clue how much I cared about him, it would only put him in more danger. But still. I hated saying it.

"No, Miss Sage. He's not in Palm Springs. He's in Reno, Nevada. And do you know what he's doing there?"

"Being a womanizing alcoholic party boy?" I said, casually. "Sir."

"That's actually pretty much correct," Wheldon said, watching me.

I shrugged – or at least, did the best I could to shrug, considering my bindings. "Sounds like him, sir."

"Various witnesses have spotted him picking up several girls and taking them back to his room with him. More than one at a time, too."

Though all this was slightly hard to hear, I knew not to take it too seriously. That was our plan, after all. Adrian was just doing as we had agreed – he was making a big splash in Reno, acting like "typical Adrian." Those girls were probably just sent away again, after being convinced that they had spent a memorable night with him. "He always was a ladies' man," I said, as if I couldn't possibly care less. "Bet he's smoking like a chimney, too. Sir."

"I don't know about that one way or another," said Wheldon. "But he _is_ enjoying his drinking, and I don't just mean cocktails. He had two feeders sent up to his room at once so he could drink his fill."

I shuddered. "It's so disgusting. I don't know how I could have ignored that aspect of him. I pretended that he wasn't really a vampire, you know? It was so weird. Sir."

"So you wouldn't care if we brought him in and questioned him?"

"You have to do what you think is right, sir," I said.

"Interesting answer," he said. "So you're really and truthfully not concerned about his well-being?"

"Not any more than I would be for anyone," I said. "I wouldn't want anyone to suffer, but..." I shrugged again. "He's not anyone special to me."

"Good," he said, and turned to one of his sons. "David, will you arrange to have the Ivashkov creature captured and brought in, please?"

I felt a wave of fear run through me, but kept my expression neutral. Would they really catch Adrian? I knew that he could take care of himself, but he didn't expect anyone to come after him. If they caught him unawares...

"Sure thing, Dad," Dave said, and left the room at once, barely fumbling with his key at all. I looked over at Gary, and he was grinning maliciously and watching my face. Something about that struck me as odd. What was it?

"Back to the salt mines for us, Miss Sage," Wheldon said, in a cheerfully patronizing voice. "No rest for the weary." And then, the questioning began in earnest, so I didn't have time to think about Gary's strange facial expression.

Wheldon asked me a bunch of questions about Rose again, but also began asking all sorts of weird questions about Lissa, Sonya Karp, and Dimitri. Did I believe that Sonya had really been restored? What were her favorite colors? Did I think it was possible that Sonya and Dimitri had a romantic relationship, considering their shared experience? What was Dimitri's taste in popular music? Did Dimitri ever mention his family when he was in Palm Springs? Did Lissa seem to have any romantic interest in anyone else besides Christian Ozera? Did Lissa usually wear high heeled shoes, or flats?

I kept to my strategy, truth mixed with lies. I really didn't know a lot about these other people, and it was a lot easier to feign ignorance to many of these questions in such a way that convinced even Wheldon. He used the boxcutter only rarely this time, maybe because he was starting to be more satisfied that I was telling the whole truth now. Or maybe it was just because there weren't many spots on me that were available to be cut after all he'd done last time.

Dave returned only a few minutes after leaving, and he and Gary watched the whole process as if taking notes in their minds. Maybe they considered this an apprenticeship. Maybe the next time their organization was going to torture someone for no real reason, they'd get to fight over who held the boxcutter. Maybe, once I got free, I'd get a chance to break both of their noses. And their father's. Or maybe I'd break something bigger. Or something smaller.

"Well, it's getting late," said Wheldon, after about an hour of "questioning." He let out an enormous and extremely fake yawn. "It's almost time for my boys and I to go home and watch the evening news."

_My boys and __me_, muttered the Traitor, from inside my head. _Get your grammar straight, dimwit._ I smiled with one corner of my mouth before I could stop myself. I decided to stop thinking of that voice as the Traitor. I mean... she'd never really led me astray so far, had she?

"However," continued Wheldon, "just because _we're_ pausing for the night doesn't mean that _your_ work is done, Miss Sage. We want you to have the night to think about things. David?"

David began digging through the alchemist bag that he had brought with him, and a moment later he pulled out a needle completely filled with bright yellow liquid and handed it to his father. Immediately, I felt my stomach contract, felt my palms begin to sweat. I was more afraid of the needle Wheldon held than I was of the man himself.

"Dear God, be merciful," I whispered, under my breath. Were they really going to give me more Vigil? The previous dose hadn't even worn off yet.

"God _is_ merciful," Wheldon answered, examining the needle. "But He requires His warriors on earth to make the hard decisions, in His name."

"Please, sir," I said. "I won't be of any use to your organization if I don't get some sleep." I had promised myself that I would never beg, never scream. This was the closest to begging that I would let myself get.

"Oh, Miss Sage," he said, in that patronizing voice. "I'm sorry to have to say it, but you really aren't of any use to our organization as it is. You've been a tremendous disappointment. Either you really know nothing at all, or you're a complete liar. Now, I'd like you to think things over during the night. Let's see if you can't just make yourself a bit more of a team player tomorrow, shall we? After all, tomorrow is another day."

With those words, he gave me the injection. The warmth spread through me, pleasant at first, but growing harsh within seconds. This was an even stronger dose than the one they'd given me before. Sirens blared in my mind, search lights shone in my eyes, and my blood began to rush in my veins. But I kept my promise to myself. I didn't scream.


	43. II: Ghostsongs and Videoloops 1

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 9: Ghostsongs and Videoloops (part 1)**

Now that they were done questioning me, Gary untied me and the Wheldons began packing up their things. Despite the Vigil burning through me, I managed to stay silent and still until the three of them left, not wanting them to see me wince or cry. Then I got down from the table just as the lights turned off. The darkness in the room seemed to only make the lights inside my mind all the brighter.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, and so I decided to take my pulse. It was difficult to focus long enough to finish the assessment, but my best guess - working without a watch - was that my heart rate was about 180 BPM. That was roughly how fast my heart beat during the middle of a long, intense run. If this kept up, I might suffer permanent heart damage. Further, the pain and fear I was experiencing was causing my adrenaline to spike, which seemed to further increase the Vigil's effects. I had to do something to get my pulse rate down, but it was difficult to think clearly. "Cuts first," I muttered hoarsely.

I began crawling across the floor, looking for the spot where Wheldon had dropped the small container of wound preparation cream, hoping I'd be able to scrape some of it off the carpet. To my surprise, I found the whole bottle – he had forgotten about it! A lot of the lotion had soaked into the carpet, but I was able to salvage a great deal. I began dressing my cuts, pacing slowly back and forth all the while. As I worked, I examined some of the older cuts, and was happy to see that even the deep wound on my arm had healed a great deal. Of course, this would just give Wheldon a larger canvas to work from, but I knew I had to try to focus on one step at a time. When I was done dressing the cuts, I carefully hid the container under the carpet, next to the anesthetic free stuff.

One of my socks had been serving as a bandage, and Wheldon had removed it from my arm during this round of "questioning" and thrown it on the ground. It was really bloody, but I put it back on, along with my other sock and my shoes, wanting to stay warm. Then I began a series of calisthenic moves, trying to burn off some of the energy that Vigil had given me. I did push-ups, squats, lunges, anything I could think of. I began to feel better, then resumed pacing slowly, back and forth, through the nearly dark room, thinking about what Wheldon had said to me.

He had called me a disappointment. How dare he say that about me? I was a good person. I was pretty sure that if Wheldon and I were to go in front of St. Peter right now, St. Peter would have a lot more problems with Wheldon than he would with me. "Tremendous disappointment," I muttered, in a mocking voice. "_Tremendous disappointment._"

"He's right, you know," said a voice from the office chair in the corner. "You have been a complete and utter disappointment since the day you were born."

"Dad?" I said, squinting at the chair. It was hard to see in the dim light of the emergency lights. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, I have the key," he said. "I can get in and out."

I smiled hesitantly as I began walking slowly across the floor, towards the door. "Dad," I said. "I'm so glad to see you." He didn't move or say a word. "Dad?" I said, uncertain. "Please. Let's go now, before Wheldon comes back."

"Of course not," my father said. He shook his head, and in the low light, I saw the look of disgust on his face. "This is where you belong right now."

"What?" I whispered, shocked. "Dad. I'm your daughter. Look at what these people have done to me." I held up my arms for him to see, but he seemed unaffected by the sight.

"It's no more than you deserve," he said.

"But I'm your daughter," I said again. I sank to my knees.

"I have two daughters," he said. "I don't need a third. I don't _have_ a third."

"But I _am_ your daughter_,_" I said, a sob rising in my throat. "Please, Dad. I've always done my best for you. Dad? Please..."

"I've said it before, Sage," said a new voice from behind me. "But seriously, your dad is an _asshole_."

"Adrian!" I said, my heart leaping up in my chest. He was leaning against the wall in my corner, and I got up and ran across the floor to him. "What are you doing here?" I asked, throwing my arms around his waist.

"Same as me," Rose said. I whirled my head around to see her standing by the door, a few feet from my father, who looked at her in disgust. "We're here to rescue you!" she added, enthusiastically.

"Really?" I said. "Wow! I thought you might have had your memories changed so that you would hate me now."

"No," Rose said. "I've been trying to get excused from court activities to get out here. I left as soon as I found someone to cover all my shifts. Didn't want to get in trouble with my supervisors."

"Oh," I said, surprised that she'd care about anything like that. "Well. Thanks for coming! Should we... um... go now? My Dad has a key."

"She'll have to take it from my cold, dead, hands," my father said.

"That can be arranged, old man," Rose said, and gave my father a cold stare. My father drew back from her slightly, either out of fear or disgust, I wasn't sure. Rose turned her attention back to the doorknob, which she was trying to shake open.

"If you're not going to help, Mr. Sage, then just leave," Adrian said.

"Fine," my father said, getting up from the chair. Then he slid through a small crack between the door and the wall that I hadn't noticed before.

"Can we go through there?" I asked Adrian and Rose, gesturing to the crack.

"That's not the way out," Rose said, sadly.

"Oh," I said. "But my dad..."

"That's not the way out," Adrian repeated.

"OK," I said, meekly. They seemed so sure, and I didn't want to fight with them.

"Wow, Hathaway," Adrian said, from behind me. "You're looking gorgeous."

"So are you," Rose said, and turned towards him. "I've missed you, handsome."

"I've missed _you_, Hathaway," Adrian said, walking past me and over to her. As I watched, astonished, he began kissing her passionately.

I felt tears spring to my eyes. This was everything that I had ever been afraid of, happening all at once. It couldn't be happening. It was too much to bear.

"Wait," I whispered, out loud. "This _isn't _happening." In a louder voice, I said to the kissing couple, "This is dumb. Don't do that."

"Why not?" Adrian said, barely pulling his lips away from Rose long enough to speak.

"Because this _couldn't_ happen. It's not in your natures. Rose, look at me."

"Hmm?" Rose said, turning towards me. Adrian went on nuzzling her neck. He had to bend way over to reach it because she was so much shorter than him.

"You are crazy about Dimitri," I told her. " You even made out with him when he was a Strigoi. And then you went to insane lengths to bring him back to life. You'd never cheat on him after all of that."

"Good point," Rose said, and swatted at Adrian to stop kissing her.

"And Adrian?" I said.

"What?" he said, sulking.

"You're giving up all sorts of things to be with me. There are tons of Moroi and dhampir girls for you to date in LA, but you want me, no matter how difficult I've made it for you. And that portrait you painted of me... It's obvious that you love me. You would even risk your life to be with me. You sure as heck wouldn't make out with Rose in front of me."

"Probably not," Adrian said, and shrugged at Rose. She shrugged back and took a few steps away from him. "So," he said. "What, do you want us to leave?"

"No," I said. "You can stay. Just... act like you. Just be _you_, ok?"

"Fine," Adrian said. "Hmm. What would I be doing in a moment like this?"

"I don't know what you'd be doing," Rose said, "but _I'd_ be going nuts trying to find a way out." She began moving around the room, hitting things.

"I guess I'd probably be trying to heal your wounds," Adrian said, drawing nearer to me, as Rose threw herself against the door, shaking it. He put his hands on my shoulder gently and closed his eyes in concentration, but there were no waves of warm and cold. There was no healing. "Why isn't it working?" Adrian asked, annoyed.

"Because you're just a hallucination," I said, and then clapped my hand over my mouth. I hadn't meant to even think it, much less say it out loud.

"Am I?" Adrian said, glumly. "Shit." Then he disappeared. I looked over at the door. Rose was gone, too.

"Come back," I said. My voice was hoarse, almost unrecognizable. "Come back, please, both of you. You can even make out if you want to. Just don't leave me alone."

But there was no one else in the room. I was alone. I sank down to the ground again. I was hallucinating in a dark room, but somehow even worse than that was the fact that I was _alone_.

No, I thought. I wasn't completely alone. I put Adrian's sweater back on, then held the towel in my lap. Adrian had lent me that sweater to keep me warm, even though he was angry at me at the time. And this towel proved that someone nearby cared enough about me to give me something to keep me warm. I had a friend, and I had Adrian, who was probably missing me somewhere right now.

"Me too," Jill said. I looked over and saw she was lying on the terrible table. "I'm missing you too. Have you forgotten about me?"

"Come down from there," I said. "It's not anywhere you want to be. This room isn't safe."

"I'm fine," she said. "It's better than where I've been."

"What have they been doing to you?" I asked, feeling ashamed. I hadn't been thinking about her much in the midst of everything that had been happening to me.

"Oh, the same thing, more or less," Jill said. She held up an arm to show off several long cuts. I looked away, tears stinging my eyes. It was just what I had been afraid of.

"Did they bring you over here?" I asked, after I had cleared my throat. "I'm surprised they put us in the same room. I overheard them saying that they were going to set you loose."

"Isn't that a strange phrase?" Jill asked, dreamily. "Set me loose. As if I were a tornado, or a wild bear. Why would they say it like that?"

"I don't know," I said. "Probably because you're a Moroi, and they're scared of you. They think of you almost like a wild bear. Did they bring you here?"

"No," said Jill, vaguely. "I just came."

"But you really shouldn't be here," I said. "They hate me, but they _really_ hate you."

"It's fine," Jill said. "They won't be back for an hour or two."

"But what if they see you on the video camera?" I said. "They'll come and do heaven-knows-what to you."

"It's no worse than what I've already suffered. Why haven't you been more worried about me?" She sat up on the table and looked at me accusingly.

"I _have_ been worried," I said. "I just... I've been distracted. Can't you see what they've done to me, too? I... I'm sorry, I know I should be rescuing you. I just don't even know how to rescue myself."

"Some crack team you and Adrian are," Jill said. "Did you know that I still can't hear into his head? All because you and Adrian put that patch up in his mind, just so you could have sex."

"That's not the only reason," I said. "Adrian's been looking for a way to keep you out of his mind for both of your sakes."

"Well, it worked, is all I can tell you," Jill said. "So my one potential source of comfort is gone."

"Jill," I said. "This isn't like you. Normally, you'd be rushing over here to look at the cuts on my arms." Jill was silent. "And," I added, "normally, you'd probably want to come over here and hug me."

"So?" Jill said. "I'm angry at you. I have every right."

"Maybe, but it's still not like you."

Jill hopped down from the table. "So I'm supposed to hug you?"

"I think so," I said. "It just would be more... normal, if you did."

"Fine," Jill said. "I guess I can do that."

The tall Moroi girl crossed the room and sat down next to me. Then she put her arms around me in an awkward hug.

"I'm sorry I haven't been thinking of you," I said.

"The truth is, I probably haven't been thinking of you too much either," Jill said, in a more gentle tone. "I mean, I'm probably mostly worried about myself. When I'm thinking about you, I'm probably wondering how you are, but mostly, I'm just hoping that you'll save me. It's just... normal. When you're scared, it's hard to think of other people."

"It's no excuse," I said, and leaned my head on her skinny shoulder. "I should be better than that. I'm a professional."

"You're also a person, like me," Jill said. "I'm not mad. I know you'll come for me."

"I'm so glad," I said, and sniffed. "I don't want you to be angry with me. In case I... don't make it. I don't want to leave earth thinking that you're mad at me."

"I'm not mad," Jill said again.

"Even though they only took you because you were with me?" I said. "They came for me, but they took you, too."

"They took me because of what I represent," Jill said. "You only ever came to Palm Springs because of me. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been put in a position to even _meet_ Adrian, much less get romantically involved with him. Are you mad at me?"

"Of course not," I said. "This assignment has changed my life. Even if I die, I won't regret it."

"Good," Jill said.

"Since you're not mad, can you hang around a little?" I asked. "I know I said you should go, but... I just want you here. It's weird. I've never minded being alone before. But for some reason, I really hate it right now. I've been hallucinating and everything. It's scary." Jill didn't say anything, so I went on. "Actually, I've never been so scared in my life. These people... they're not normal. They might..." I sniffled again. "They might _kill_ me. Wheldon's insane and his sons are going the same direction."

Jill was still quiet, so I lifted my head to look at her. But all I was leaning on now was my towel and my own hands. Jill was gone.

I looked around the room, frantically. Where had she gone? Had she used the same crack between the door and the wall that my dad had used? I couldn't even see that crack, now. I didn't understand. I ran over to the door and began pounding on it, shouting, "What have you guys done with Jill?" No one answered me. I pounded more loudly, and shouted again, "Where is Jill? Bring her back!" But there was no response.

After a moment, though, I realized that I was thinking about it the wrong way. The question, I realized, wasn't where Jill had gone. The question was, how had she gotten here in the first place?

"Oh, God," I whispered. "I was hallucinating again." I drew my fists back from the door, mid-pound, and then resumed pacing, back and forth through the room.

What could be causing these hallucinations? I hadn't been without sleep long enough to be seeing things. It had to be the Vigil. Wheldon had given me another dose of Vigil before the previous dose had worn off, and I had heard that at high doses, the drug could cause strange side-effects. Further, they had given me both doses intravenously. The drug wasn't developed for this method of administration. I knew from my studies of normal medicine that human drugs' effects varied dramatically depending on delivery method, and it was reasonable to assume that the same would be true of alchemist compounds.

"Well, I might as well face it," I thought. "I'm going to be seeing things all night."

Was there anything I could do to soothe myself? Lying down was out of the question. Even sitting still would kick the Vigil into hyperdrive, I knew. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and tried to think of a solution. I wanted to be calm, but I needed to move. Was there a form of movement that might be calming?

"Yoga," I muttered, and immediately got into child's pose. Then I began the series of poses known as the sun salutation. It both calmed and energized, and I figured it would be a good way to keep the Vigil at bay. I ran through the series of poses three time and was starting a fourth run-through when I heard an appreciative whistle from behind me. I turned to see Adrian, sitting in a chair straight out of an Amberwood classroom, attached half-desk and all.

"Oooh," Adrian said. "That last one was a nice pose. What's it called?"

"Downward... facing... dog..." I said, slightly breathless.

"Yep. I could get into this yoga thing after all," Adrian said. "Hey, don't stop!"

"I can't do down dog if you're going to be watching," I said. "What are you doing back here?"

"Little word of advice," Adrian said. "No questions." He pointed behind him at a blackboard, and I saw that written on it in large chalk letters were the words "Rule #1: No Insightful Questions."

"Good point," I said. "Ok. So you're here. Did Rose come, too?"

"Why would Rose come?" Adrian asked. "Three's a crowd, sweetheart."

I smiled. It would be nice to have some private time with Adrian. "Want to do some yoga with me?"

"Hmm," Adrian said. "Why don't we just cuddle up there in the corner?"

"I'd love to," I said, "but I can't lie still. The Vigil goes into overdrive."

"Ok," said Adrian. "So you need to keep moving?" I nodded. "I'd suggest sex, but who knows who's monitoring that thing up there?" He pointed at the video camera in the corner.

"Does kind of put a damper on sex," I said.

"But here's the next best thing," Adrian said, and held out his hand to me. "Come dance with me, Sage."

I took his hand, and we began to dance around the room, as we had danced in his kitchen, weeks ago. "But there's no music," I said.

"Fine," Adrian said. "We'll sing."

He began singing the song we'd danced to in his kitchen, and I joined in. Neither of us could sing worth a darn, and neither of us really knew the words, but we half sang, half hummed our way through the song, and when we reached what we thought might be the end, we just went back to the beginning again.

"Lean on me," Adrian said. "Close your eyes. I got you."

"I can't close my eyes," I said. "The Vigil won't let me." But I leaned on him, and we rotated slowly through the room. The movement was enough to appease the Vigil, and I felt my heart rate normalize.

"What do you want to sing next?" Adrian asked, when we got sick of the first song.

"Do you happen to know the song 'Kerry', by Joni Mitchell?" I asked. My mother was a big fan of folk music, and she used to listen to it out in the garage, when Dad wasn't around. I used to visit her out there, so folk music became the music of my childhood. I didn't listen to it much anymore, but I still knew every word to every song Joni Mitchell had ever written, as well as every song by Simon and Garfunkle, Joan Baez, James Taylor, and the Mamas and the Papas. It was just about the only popular music I really knew.

"Of _course_ I know 'Kerry', sweetheart," Adrian said.

"I didn't know you liked music like that," I said.

Adrian pointed to the blackboard. A new rule had been added below the first: "Rule #2: Don't Analyze Things Logically."

"That's fair," I said. "You're right. I'm sorry."

So we began singing the song together. It was an upbeat song, but we continued dancing together very slowly. "_Let's not talk about fare-the-wells now," _we sang._ "The night is a starry dome. And they're playing that scratchy rock-n-roll beneath a Matala moon."_

After that, we sang a few other songs together, mostly oldies. Suddenly, I stopped in the middle of a song and put my hand to my mouth.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Adrian asked.

"I just remembered something," I whispered. "Adrian, they're coming for you. You have to hide."

"What do you mean?" Adrian asked.

"Wheldon sent Dave out to tell them to go get you. They're going to bring you in for 'questioning.' You have to hide. They know you're in Reno."

"I'm not in Reno," Adrian said. "I'm right here."

"Right," I said, feeling confused but unwilling to think more about it. "Still. You should hide. They're coming."

"But why would they bother?" Adrian asked. "They're already sort of understaffed, aren't they?"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because they sent the tech guy with them on the run to get you," Adrian said. "They needed another warm body, and dragged along poor Joe."

"I guess so," I said. "Maybe they are a little understaffed. But that doesn't mean they won't try to get you."

"Maybe," Adrian said.

"They said they would," I said. "Wheldon was so happy. He was hoping I'd cry. You could just tell. His awful son, too. That jerk Gary was just staring at me with this smile on his face while Dave went out to go tell them to go start the search..."

"Gary was smiling?" Adrian asked, interested.

"Yeah. He was enjoying the whole thing."

"So wait," Adrian said. "Wheldon told Dave to go on an errand, and Gary just smiled and went along with it?"

"Yeah," I said, thoughtfully. "He didn't argue at all."

"That's weird," Adrian said.

"It is weird," I said. "I thought so at the time, but I couldn't put a finger on what was wrong with it."

"And now you know?"

"Yes," I said, slowly. "I think so."

"What's wrong?" Adrian asked, his hands on my waist, moving me through the room again in our little waltz.

"Gary didn't _argue_," I said. "He always argues when his father asks Dave to do anything. Dave is obviously the favorite, and Gary has this complex about it."

"Probably why he bought the Jeep," Adrian said. "Inferiority complex."

"Probably," I said. "But this time, when Wheldon gave Dave the task, Gary just smiled and went along with it."

"Because..." Adrian prompted.

"Because he knew there really wasn't a task," I said. "Because they had planned it in advance. It was all a show to mess with my head."

"I knew you'd figure it out!" Adrian said. "See? They're not coming after me. I'm sure of it."

"Still, be careful," I said. "Are you still in Reno?"

"I'm right here," Adrian said.

"I know, but, um, out there... in real..."

"Don't say it," Adrian said. "Shhhhh."

I glanced up at the blackboard. A new rule had been added. "Rule #3: Don't Say It."

"Right," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Adrian said. "I love you. Let's dance."

"What shall we dance to?" I asked.

"How about... 'I Want To Hold Your Hand,' the Beatles song," Adrian suggested.

"Just what I was thinking," I said.

Adrian hummed the tune, hitting a few of the notes from time to time, and I rested my head on his chest as we continued to slowly revolve through the room.

"What are you doing?" a voice asked, from near the door.

"Dancing with Adrian," I replied. "Duh."

"Is he here?" the voice asked. "Where is he?"

"He's right here," I said and turned to look at who was speaking. It was Angeline. "And be careful. You're not supposed to ask things like that. It makes him disappear sometimes."

"Oh," Angeline said. "Well... I'm sorry 'bout that." She sat down on Wheldon's chair and looked around the room. I couldn't see her so well, but I knew that she could see me, with her strong dhampir eyes.

"Why are _you_ here?" I asked her. I wasn't really afraid of her disappearing. In fact, I would have welcomed it. Adrian stood behind me, his arms around my waist, protectively.

"I came to see how you were," she said. "I guess you're not doin' so good. How did you get all of them cuts all over your arms and legs?"

"Mr. David Wheldon Senior has a boxcutter he really likes," I said. "I myself am not so fond of it."

Angeline gasped. "So they're like... torturin' you?"

"Yeah. They're like, torturin' me."

"Really?"

"Really."

To my surprise, Angeline sniffed loudly, then raised a hand to her face and wiped tears away from her eyes. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"Why specifically are you sorry?" I asked. "For being a pain in the butt the entire time I knew you, even though I tried to help you time and time again? For hitting on my boyfriend, even though you _knew_ he was my boyfriend, and that I must be crazy about him to be with him, considering our situations? Or, _or,_" and my voice rose, "or are you sorry, maybe, a _little_ sorry, for passing information along to these guys? Are you sorry that you're responsible for me being _here_, and for what happened to Jill? May I remind you that Jill was also _always_ nice to you. Are you sorry about that?"

"I'm sorry," Angeline said again, sobbing more openly now. "They won't tell me where Jill is. I've been trying to find out."

I found I had no pity for her at all. "Just... go away," I said.

"I'll go," she said. "I only wanted to say I was sorry. But... what is _wrong_ with you, Sydney? Besides the cuts on your arms and legs and stuff..."

"Nothing is wrong," I said.

"Nothing at all," Adrian agreed, warmly.

"See?" I said. "Adrian agrees." I put my arms around him and he hugged me tight. I looked over my shoulder at Angeline. She was watching us with the saddest look I'd ever seen on her face. I almost felt sorry for her. I knew how she felt about Adrian.

"I'll go," she said again. "I'll just leave this stuff here for you, in case you want it. I got it for myself but I think you need it more."

"Go on," I said, not looking at whatever she was gesturing to. I didn't care what she was leaving for me. Instead, I put my head on Adrian's shoulder, keeping my back to the dhampir girl.

"How about some Carole King?" Adrian suggested, his mouth close to my ear. "_When you're down, and troubled, and you need some loving care..._"

"_And nothing, no nothing is going right_," I sang, loudly, drowning out the sounds of movement behind me. When the sounds stopped, I turned to look behind me. Angeline was gone. "Ha," I said. "She went away." I looked up at Adrian and smiled. "I didn't know you liked Carole King," I said.

"I don't," Adrian said. "I hate that kind of stuff. But this isn't about me."

"You're the best," I said.

"I am," he said. "In some ways, it's kind of a shame that you never had any other guys, or you'd know _how_ good I am."

"I know," I said, blushing a little. "I know how good you are."

We continued dancing, though neither of us was singing. I put my mental energy into this: really feeling his arms around me, really feeling his love. I sighed happily and put my head down on his shoulder. "Why can I reach your shoulder so easily?" I asked. "You don't really seem to be bending down much. And why aren't you warmer? You're usually so warm." I turned my head to look up at him, but his face was expressionless. And transparent.

And then... he was gone.

I sank down to my knees, tears flooding my eyes. "Oh, crap," I murmured. "Oh crap oh crap oh crap..." It started out as a whine but it ended a sob. I was vaguely ashamed of myself, but I couldn't stop the tears. "He's gone again," I said, my voice breaking. "Why did I have to break the rules? No logical analysis, Sydney, don't think about that. If he comes back, don't question it. Just... enjoy him."

With nothing to distract me, I began to notice pain returning to the cuts on my arms and legs. And when I began to hold still for too long, I felt my heart rate begin to rise, felt the sweat begin to stand out on my forehead. I began doing yoga again, trying to focus on the inner calm that yoga was meant to inspire. I still had more of the wound preparation lotion, but I wanted to conserve it, and to only use it when – and if – the pain grew unbearable. I was starting to find out that I could bear a lot more pain than I had ever known I could.

After I had slowly worked through ten sun salutations, I found that I had the Vigil more or less under control. For a change, I began pacing back and forth through the room. Exhaustion was starting to take over, and I guessed that it must be at least midnight, if not later. But sleep wasn't going to happen. So I continued my movement, wondering if they could see me on the camera. Was it outfitted with any kind of night-vision filter? I felt like giving the camera a rude hand gesture. I felt like picking up that stupid fancy office chair and throwing it across the room.

I strolled toward the office chair, thinking that at least I could punch it a few times to let off some steam. But when I got closer, I saw that the chair wasn't empty. There was a bottle of water sitting on the seat – and, I realized, a pack of peanut M&Ms. I picked up the bottle of water and the yellow packet of candy and brought them both over to one of the emergency lights for a better look. I opened the bottle and the package and sniffed both carefully. Nothing looked or smelled out of the ordinary.

I put the candies to the side for the moment and began to drink the water. I hadn't noticed how terrible my thirst had been until I had held the water in my hand. Now, as I drank it, I realized that I had never really thought before about the scent of water, the flavor of water. But water has a scent and flavor like nearly everything else on earth, and it was wonderful. I drank it as slowly as I could stand to, not wanting to risk losing it all. My water, my beautiful bottle of water.

When I had drunk half the water, I forced myself to put it down for the time being, promising myself the rest later. Then I portioned out a third of the candies to eat. It had been so long since I had eaten candy, and it felt unnatural somehow, but I knew that if nothing else, the peanuts were providing necessary nutrients, and that even the sugars and fats were good for me at this point. I hadn't eaten anything in the real world in more than two days, and the last dream food I'd had had been the previous day.

The sound of a clearing throat made me look up. Ms. Terwiliger was sitting at her desk at the far side of the room. "So," she said. "Have you figured out where that stuff came from yet?"

"Not yet, ma'am," I said.

"And why is that?" she asked.

"Because... I didn't care, I guess, ma'am."

"I'm a little disappointed in you, Miss Melbourne," Ms. Terwiliger said. "You're usually much more diligent than that. Let's think it through together, shall we?"

"Hmm," I said, and crunched on a candy. "I guess it's possible that Wheldon left it behind him by accident. He's the guy who... um..."

"I _know_ who he is, Miss Melbourne," Ms. Terwiliger said. "And is it really possible? Really?"

"I... I guess not, ma'am. He would have noticed it on the chair, since that's where he sits. And he wouldn't have left it on purpose."

"Are you saying that this man would never give you food?"

"Not exactly, ma'am," I said. "But I believe that if he had given me food, he would have made a big deal out of it. He would have demanded gratitude for it. It's in his nature."

"Yes," Ms. Terwiliger said. "I'm afraid that history backs you up on that. Egotists are rather unlikely to simply _do_ anything."

"So, it wasn't Wheldon," I said. "Maybe it was Joe." Ms. Terwiliger raised an eyebrow at me, and I shook my head. "I'm sorry, ma'am. You're right. He would have told me. At the very least, he would have left it somewhere else for me to find. Not on Wheldon's chair."

"That does seem to fit with his profile," Ms. Terwiliger.

"Besides, he hasn't been in here since Wheldon was in here," I said. Ms. Terwiliger looked down at her desk, as if she were grading papers or something. "I'm sorry, ma'am, are you busy?"

"I'm just... waiting for you to figure it out," Mr. Terwiliger said. "It seems ridiculously obvious to me. But you're resisting it for some reason, which is within your rights, I suppose." She sighed.

A memory flitted through my confused brain. "Angeline said, 'I'll just leave this stuff here for you,' right before she left," I said. Ms. Terwiliger nodded encouragingly. "But she was just a hallucination, wasn't she?"

"Let me ask you something, Miss Melbourne. It is possible that Angeline was really here? Do you know for a fact that she's elsewhere?"

"I don't know that, no, ma'am."

"And she presumably has some relationship with these rather repulsive men here?"

"I guess so," I said.

"Well," said Ms. Terwiliger. "That's that, then. That was really Angeline."

I began pacing again. I was feeling much better with the water and food hitting my blood-system, but I still needed to move. "Angeline hates me," I said.

"Apparently, the child is capable of remorse," Ms. Terwiliger said. "She is your cousin, isn't she?"

I gave Ms. Terwiliger a very direct look. "Come on, ma'am," I said. "You know that she's not."

Ms. Terwiliger laughed. "I can never keep track of which lies I'm supposed to be believing at what point! OK, fine. Angeline isn't your cousin. Regardless, she doesn't seem to hate you as much as you thought."

"But if she was going to help me at all, why didn't she just rescue me?" I asked.

"Maybe she couldn't," Ms. Terwiliger said. "Or maybe she is going to help you some other way. Maybe she thinks you can get out of here by yourself."

"How on earth am I supposed to do that?" I asked, irritated. "The door is locked. There aren't any windows. I'm hopped up on Vigil and going crazy. Exactly how..."

"All I'm hearing is problem, problem, problem," Ms. Terwiliger said. "You need to start thinking of solutions."

I sighed. "Yes, Ms. Terwiliger," I said.

"Good." She smiled beatifically.

"Ms. Terwiliger?" I said, hesitantly.

"Yes, Miss Melbourne?"

"How are things back in Palm Springs? Do people… miss me? Are people worried?"

Ms. Terwiliger gave me her most penetrating look. "Now, Miss Melbourne. What do you think?"

"I don't know," I said. "That's why I'm asking you."

Ms. Terwiliger pointed at the chalkboard behind her. The other rules – "No Insightful Questions," "Don't Analyze Things Logically," and "Don't Say It" – were still there, along with a fourth rule: "Don't Ask Too Much of Any Visitor."

"I can't tell you how things are in Palm Springs," she said. "So don't ask."

"I'm sorry," I said.

"But," she said brightly, "I can entertain your mind a little. Would you like that?"

"Oh, yes," I said.

"Good," she said. "Why don't you explain to me again your theory on the fall of Rome?"

"It's not just _my_ theory," I said. "A lot of scholars believe in the viability of the theory of lead poisoning."

"Yes, yes, I've read the scholarship," Ms. Terwiliger said. "I'm just not convinced. Convince me." She leaned back in her chair and took off her glasses.

So, I spent the next half hour or so debating with Ms. Terwiliger about the cause of the fall of Rome. I was enjoying the conversation, actually. There was no emotion to it, nothing to be afraid of. I felt completely in my element, debating history with my teacher. I didn't ask her how she'd gotten in here, or why she wasn't doing something to help me escape. I just enjoyed our conversation.

"Well," Ms. Terwiliger said, after a while. "I guess you make some valid points there. I'd love to sponsor this as a dissertation... if, of course, this were a PhD program and not a high school." She gave me one of her weird smiles.

"I hope I can go to college someday," I said. "That's what I want more than almost anything."

"Of course you will," Ms. Terwiliger said. "Fake name or not, you'll have colleges begging for you to attend."

"Maybe," I said, but just then, I heard a faint noise. "Did you hear that?" I asked.

"No," she said.

"It sounded like someone was calling my name," I said.

"Well, let's be quiet and listen," Ms. Terwiliger suggested, and we did.

It was a familiar voice, but very faint, just a whisper on the wind. "Sydney?"

I looked around frantically, trying to find its source. "Adrian?" I called. "Are you here?"

"Sydney?" Adrian said again, louder this time. "Where are you?"

I spun around in a circle but didn't see any sign of him. "Adrian!" I yelled. "I can hear you, but I can't see you. Where are you?"

"Sydney?" came the reply. He sounded like he was _in_ the room now, but I couldn't see him. "Sweetheart?"

"Can you hear me?" I called.

"Sweetheart?"

It was maddening. He was everywhere, but nowhere. I began doing stupid things like looking under Wheldon's office chair and in the drawers under the terrible table.

"Really, Miss Melbourne," said Ms. Terwiliger. "We _were_ in the middle of a conversation..."

Then I saw it. There was something in the corner, near my towel. I squinted in the dim light, then began stumbling in that direction. As I got closer, something came into focus: a leather armchair and a figure. The figure spoke with Adrian's voice. "I can't find you," he said.

I crouched in front of the figure and reached out to it with my mind. The focus grew sharper, slightly. I could see his features clearly now, though he was still transparent. I reached my hand up to touch him, but there was nothing to touch. "You _did_ find me," I said.

"Sydney," he said, his voice thick with emotion. I could see him more clearly now. He was wearing a fluffy hotel bathrobe, and his hair was wet. He had a cigarette in one hand, and a tumbler of amber liquid in the other. He dropped the cigarette into the tumbler and reached out to me with both hands, but they went right through me. "Is that you?" he asked. "Are you there?"

"I'm here," I said.

"But where is _here_?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said. I reached out my hand to him again, knowing I couldn't touch him. "I think... I think it's hell, Adrian."

"What?" he said. He was growing fainter now. "Sweetheart, please... Where _are_ you?"

And then he disappeared completely. I kept my hand up in the air, touching the space where I had seen him. He had been so close... This seemed different from the other times I'd seen him on this long night, though I couldn't articulate why or how.

I looked over my shoulder at Ms. Terwiliger, who shook her head in a patient sort of way. "If it's really important, dear, he'll call back."

"No," I said. "I don't think he can." I wiped away a few tears.

"It's just as well he couldn't stay," my teacher added. "You really should be getting started on your test."

"What?"

Ms. Terwiliger gestured to a row of Amberwood prep desks in front of her teacher's desk. "Have a seat and get started." Then she picked up a book and began reading it, ignoring me.

I sat down at the desk near the wall and looked down at my test paper.

** Name: **

** Date:**

Directions: Write an organized essay in answer to the following prompt. Your response  
>should be cohesive, coherent, and forceful. Be sure to observe the rules of grammar and<br>spelling, and to back up your points with relevant, detailed examples as needed. You will  
>receive extra credit if you actually get out of this place alive.<p>

Prompt: Some historians argue that the fall of Rome was caused by economic factors, while  
>others focus more on social issues. Please explain: <em>What the hell are you going to do now?<em>

The rest of the paper was blank.

I raised my hand.

"Yes, Miss Melbourne?" Ms. Terwiliger answered, testily.

"I'm sorry, ma'am. I didn't know we were going to have a test. I didn't study for it. And um, I don't seem to have anything to write with."

Ms. Terwiliger shook her head in a disappointed sort of way. "Maybe you can borrow a pencil from a classmate," she said, and gestured to something behind me. "And figure something out. You always do."

I turned around. The room was full of little half-desks, and sitting in the back row were Gary, Bryan, and Keith. They were all diligently working on their papers. I turned back to Ms. Terwiliger. "I didn't know that Gary and Keith even went to Amberwood," I said. Ms. Terwiliger just shushed me and went back to her book. I looked over my shoulder again and sighed. "Um, Keith?" I whispered. "Can I borrow a pencil or pen, please?"

"Not a chance," he responded, and tapped at his eye patch with his pen. "Not unless you want to lend me one of your eyes as collateral."

"Woah," said Bryan. "Did she get that brother of hers to gauge your eye out?" I noticed that he had a black eye still from when Eddie had punched him. That was weird. It should have healed by now.

"Or did she do it herself?" asked Gary, and gestured to his own black eye. "She punches like a dude." He gave me an expressive leer. "She's still hot, though." He blew me a kiss.

"Steer clear," Bryan said. "She's crazy. And she's not _that_ hot."

"She's practically homicidal," Keith said. "She got some friends of hers to poke out my eye just because I slept with her sister."

"You didn't 'sleep with' Carly," I said, but before I could go on, Bryan had interrupted by giving Keith a high-five.

"Score!" he said. "Is her sister hot?"

"_Both_ her sisters are hot," Keith said, grinning. "I wouldn't mind getting my hands on the younger one, give it a year or two first probably, but yeah..."

I stood up at my desk. "If any of you lays a hand on Zoe..."

"You'll what?" Bryan said. "Beat us up? Sic one of your insane brothers on us?"

"You won't be able to do that while you're still in here," Gary said. "My dad and I still have some questions for you."

"Be quiet, all of you!" Ms. Terwiliger said, loudly. "Some students are trying to take their tests!"

At the seat next to me, Carly sighed loudly, and I sat back down, wondering how long she'd been there. She was always so quiet these days. "I'm going to fail this one, for sure," she whispered to me. I looked over at her test. Her essay prompt was "Did Sydney's revenge on Keith help your recovery? Explain why or why not." I tried to read her answer, but her handwriting was so faint and messy that it was impossible.

"Carly," I whispered. "You shouldn't be here. Look, I'll finish your essay for you. Just give me your pencil. You can go, ok? Go somewhere safe and... rest."

She shrugged. "There's nowhere safe for me," she whispered back. "Wherever I go, he's right there." She jerked her head to indicate Keith.

"But he's gone," I said. "He's been discredited. Even Dad knows now that Keith is a jerk."

"Don't count on it," someone whispered from the seat next to Carly.

Startled, I leaned forward to see Zoe. Even from where I was sitting, I could see Zoe's test prompt. It said, "How has Sydney failed you more: as a sister, or as an alchemist? Explain." Zoe had filled her paper and was now continuing her response on a separate sheet.

"Zoe," I whispered loudly. "Please, you and Carly should go. Dad was here before, and he has the key. He can probably let you guys out if you call him or something.

"What, don't trust me to get any credit for my test?" Zoe said. "Isn't that just like you? I'm almost done, you know. I'm going to get an A."

"Hi, Zoe," said Bryan, Gary, and Keith in unison.

"Want to go out some time, see a movie?" Bryan asked. "We could go for a walk after."

"Want to go for a car ride?" Gary asked. "I've got a really great car. Big back seat."

"We could just hang out at your place," Keith said. "Somewhere quiet where we won't be bothered."

"Ms. Terwiliger," I said. "They're distracting me from writing my paper. Plus they're bothering my little sister."

Ms. Terwiliger didn't respond, however, and Carly whispered, "She can't hear you. No one can. She's deaf to it by now."

"What do you mean?" I whispered.

"Too many guys like them," she answered. "Too many years. She knows it already. They're all the same, every one of them."

"You mean guys in general?"

"Of course," Carly said. "They're all pigs." She looked behind us, and I looked too. I wasn't really surprised to see that now, all three guys were wearing letter jackets like Bryan's, all three were wearing an eye patch like Keith's, and all three had huge gold crosses like Gary's.

"Not all guys are like them, though," I said. "I mean, there's Adrian..."

"A Moroi?" She shuddered.

"He loves me," I said. "He'd rather die than hurt me. He's giving up so much just to be with me..."

Carly snorted. "Oh, poor baby," she said.

"You don't know him," I said. "He's wonderful."

"Is he your only example?" Carly whispered. "Because if so..."

"Ok, what about Eddie?" I said. "He's amazing. He saved me from the Strigoi, and beat up Bryan for me. He'd do anything for Jill, and he's never even really made a play for her..."

"Except for those times he made out with her and ran away," Carly answered. "He's a dhampir, anyway. How much can you really trust him?"

"I'd trust him with my life," I said.

"Then where is he right now?"

"It's not his fault," I said. "They did something to him. I'm sure he'd be here if he could be." Carly rolled her eyes. "Ok, well, what about Joe?" I said. "He's human, at least. He seems really nice..."

"One of your captors?" Carly said. "You're getting Stockholm Syndrome, Sydney."

"Micah," I said. "Dimitri. Trey. All really great guys who would never hurt a girl."

Carly shrugged. "If you say so," she said, and wiped her eyes. I realized then that she was crying.

I got out of my chair and went to her side. "Carly," I said. "I haven't been there for you like you've needed. I'm sorry. When this is all over, we should start talking more often. Like... Skype, or something. Once a week, maybe. Whenever you want to talk."

Carly sniffed. "Maybe," she said.

I put my arms around her. "I'm sorry," I said again. "I'm really sorry."

"Me too," she said, hugging me back now.

"Why are you sorry?" I asked, as we pulled apart.

"For putting you in this position," she said. "I shouldn't have told you. It's obviously made you kind of crazy. I mean, look at you." She waved a hand in my general direction.

"What do you mean?" I asked. "What about me looks crazy?" Carly just shook her head and returned to writing her test. "Zoe?" I said. "Do you know what Carly means?" But Zoe only looked up long enough to give me a dark look and go back to writing her paper.

I looked back at the guys in the back row. "Hey, Keith," I called. "Gary. Bryan." They looked up at me, their faces affected masks of indifference. "This is a warning.," I said. "You don't get to hurt me, or anyone I love – got it?" They all just smirked. "I'm serious," I said. "And you're not going to freak me out or make me mean or make me frightened, either. End of story."

"Don't know about that," Gary said. "I might still get a chance to hurt you."

"Time's up," Ms. Terwiliger said. "Time to hand in your papers. Sydney, did you finish yours?"

I looked down at my paper and was astonished to see that I had, in fact, written a brief response to the question. When had I written it? I didn't even have a pen. I began reading it, curious what I'd said.

"There are many reasons that someone may want to escape from a horrible captor's  
>office room; among them life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. I intend to show<br>in this paper that there are many ways in which I can respond to the immediate threat  
>in front of me. The primary ways I will explore here are staying sane, staying brave, and<br>_snapping the hell out of it."_

I wheeled around to look at Gary. "We're not finished yet, jerk," I said.

He smiled. "Count on it, babe."

"I am counting on it," I said, and began spinning in a circle, as fast as I could. "One... two... three."

When I stopped spinning, they were all gone, all of them, Gary, Keith, and Bryan, as well as my sisters and Ms. Terwiliger. I was alone in the room, and I was pretty glad about it, for once. My next battle with Gary wouldn't be this easy, but at least I could control my own mind... sometimes.

I sat down on the floor, wondering if the Vigil was beginning to wear off, wondering if I could maybe get a little bit of rest after all. But at that moment, the light switched on. I bit my lip as the door began to open.


	44. II: Ghostsongs and Videoloops 2

**Book II: These Three Remain  
><strong>

**Chapter 10: Ghostsongs and Videoloops (part 2)**

The door opened, and I relaxed a little when Joe walked in. He was wearing a huge backpack and seemed to be in a good mood.

"Good morning, Sydney," he said.

"Is it morning?" I said, scooting over to my usual spot near the wall. Part of me was still stuck in Ms. Terwiliger's class, and I squinted at Joe, wondering if he was real. "Did I make it through the night?"

"You did," Joe said, and slid his backpack off as he sat down near me on the carpet. "I guess you had a rough one, huh?"

"It was... busy," I said, in a hoarse voice. Now that he had gotten closer, I could see that his hair was wet. I could even smell his shampoo. He must have just showered. I wanted a shower, too. I wanted a lot of things.

"You didn't sleep at all?" he asked, as he unzipped his bag.

"No," I said. "Vigil."

"It didn't wear off?" he asked. He had begun looking through his bag for something.

"No."

"Oh," Joe said. "That sucks, Sydney. I hate staying up all night. I only got two or three hours myself last night and I feel like shit, so I can only guess how _you_ feel. It isn't even _starting_ to wear off?" He had tilted his body away from me, and seemed unwilling to really meet my eyes.

"I think it's starting to wear off a _little_," I said. "After all I'm not–" I cut myself off before I said, "I'm not hallucinating anymore." I sat completely still for a moment, experimentally, then answered, "I can sit still again, that's a good sign." Then I kicked one of my feet without meaning to, and shook my head. "More or less..."

"Well, that's good at least," Joe said, absently. He had started taking things out of his backpack, trying to find whatever it was that he was looking for. He pulled out a big sweatshirt with a Mets logo, a few crumpled up pieces of paper, and what looked an awful lot like a girl's scrunchie.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

"Hang on," he said. "Oh, there it is!" He pulled a plastic grocery bag from his backpack and dumped the contents on the carpet in between us. There were two foil-wrapped rectangular packages, two bottles of Vitamin Water, and a package of those bright orange crackers with peanut butter on them that you always see in vending machines. "I um, grabbed this stuff from the kitchen this morning, and brought it as a peace offering," Joe said. "I thought you might be hungry after, um, everything."

"Wow," I said, honestly touched, even though this was not at all the kind of food I would have chosen. "Thank you." I opened one of the packages of peanut butter crackers and took a bite. I chewed it, swallowed it, and tried not to make a face at the chemical aftertaste. My stomach wasn't at all sure if it wanted this food or not, even though I knew that I needed to eat _something_.

"Well, you got your protein in those," Joe was saying, gesturing to the crackers. "Peanut butter. And there's two kinds of Poptarts," he said, gesturing to the foil packages. "These ones are strawberry flavor, for your fruit needs."

"Very healthy," I said, trying to smile.

"And these are S'mores flavor. For your uh, chocolate and marshmallow food groups," he said, and I smiled at that in earnest. "And," he went on, "I got you a Revive flavor water, that's the pinkish one, and a Defense one, that's the red one. I thought you could use some vitamins."

"I could stand some revival and defense, too," I said.

"Right," he said. He looked down at his hands, which were tapping on his thighs in a staccato beat. Joe had always seemed to prefer movement and constant action. Even in the car, he hadn't been content to just ride – he'd needed to follow the progress on the map, constantly checking on how things were going. But now his nervous energy was beginning to worry me a little. What was going _on_?

"Really, Joe, thank you," I said. "This is more than I expected, and just what I needed. I haven't had much to eat or drink since Thursday night."

"Thursday?" Joe said. "No one's given you any food or nothin'?"

"I got some candy yesterday," I said, but didn't elaborate on its source. "What day is it today?" To be polite, I began to eat another one of the cracker sandwiches.

"It's Sunday morning," Joe said. "About 5:30."

"Wow," I said. I thought about it. Thursday had been the art show. Thursday night had been that wonderful night with Adrian. Friday morning, the guys jumped me in the parking lot. I spent all day Friday in the car. Saturday I had woken up here, and now, I had just passed through the world's longest, crappiest Saturday night ever. So now it was Sunday. Maybe I'd get a little mercy today, in honor of the Lord's day. And maybe Strigoi would start lining up to repent and be restored. I sighed.

"And uh," Joe went on. "I just wanted to say sorry. I was a little snippy with you yesterday. It was rude of me. So uh, like I said, consider this food a peace offering, or something."

"It's OK," I said. "You've been pretty nice to me, considering. That anesthetic lotion was a big help. I'm not angry at you." That wasn't exactly true, of course, but it wouldn't help my situation if I was harsh to Joe.

"I had to give you the lotion," Joe said. "Any decent guy would've done that."

"Still," I said. "Thanks." I set the crackers aside and opened one of the Poptart pouches, taking a quick glance at the nutrition label first. "This is perfect," I said, though inside of me, something screamed _Forty percent of your calorie intake for the day!_ I tried not to think about it. "Strawberry is my favorite flavor," I said. This wasn't exactly true, either, since I had never really had a Poptart, but it seemed like the right thing to say.

"It's my favorite too!" said Joe, smiling widely. "We have a lot in common."

I examined the pastry and took a small bite. It tasted of preservatives, sugar, government surplus corn gluten, and fat. I chewed, swallowed, and arranged my mouth into a smile. "Want the other one?" I asked, gesturing to the remaining pastry.

"It's for you," Joe said, but he eyed it with interest.

"I'm a little nauseated," I said. "From the Vigil. Why don't you have the other one? I still have the S'mores one for later, right?"

"If you're sure," Joe said, and hesitantly reached for the pastry. I nodded, and he took it and began to eat. For a minute or two, we just munched on our Poptarts in silence. It was like eating the contents of an unmarked Erlenmeyer flask, but I made myself eat the whole thing.

"Listen, Joe," I said, when we had finished eating. "I don't mean to sound unappreciative, but what are you doing here? I mean, the snacks are great, _really_, but what's up?"

Joe looked down at his feet. "Am I bothering you?"

"Well, I do have this incredibly busy schedule at the moment," I said. "Essays to write. Phone calls to return."

He looked up in surprise, maybe because he hadn't expected me to make any kind of attempt at a joke. "Yeah, I guess you are pretty busy," he said, looking around the nearly empty room and up to the ceiling. As he leaned back, I was momentarily fascinated by a small reddish mark on his neck. Was it a birthmark?

"Seriously, Joe," I said. "Why are you here?"

"Like I said, I wanted to apologize for before. You just hit on a sore spot, you know?"

"I know."

"But I know you're just doing your best," Joe said. "I mean, I know it's a weird situation, but it's going to get cleared up soon, and for now, we can just sorta... agree to disagree."

"I'm not sure we can," I said. "I want to be free from here, and we can't 'agree to disagree' on my fundamental human right to not be kidnapped and tortured. We can, however, agree to stop talking about it."

"I guess that'll have to do," he said. He hadn't stopped tapping on his leg. "I really _am_ on your side, though. I wish you'd believe me."

"I believe that you think you're on my side," I said, and he nodded, apparently satisfied. "But... should you be in here? At some point, aren't they going to wonder what you're doing here, hanging out with the vamp-lover?"

Joe winced at the words as if I'd said a horrible curse word, then shook his head. "It's OK," he said. "No one's here yet, it's too early. Just the night shift, and they're OK with me coming and going."

"But what about the security camera?" I asked. "If they see you giving me food..."

"Oh, don't worry about the camera," Joe said, dismissively. "I installed that shit. I know how to put the video on loop so we can actually have a conversation for a few minutes."

"On loop?"

"Yeah. The monitors are just showing a loop of the last fifteen minutes, you walking around in the dark room. The guys looking at it, they can't really see so good because of the dark, you know? But they can see you still just... doing whatever you were doing for the last 15 minutes. I figure it's a long enough loop that they can't notice any pattern unless they're paying close attention."

I stared at him. "That's... really smart."

"I'm not as dumb as people think, you know," he said.

"I never thought you were dumb," I said.

"People think just because you got a accent or something, that makes you dumb."

"_People_ are dumb," I said.

Joe smiled. "I set up most of the systems around here," he said, proudly. "I can really do whatever I want. I can go in almost any room, just... whatever."

"Oh, really?" I said. "That's cool. Did you install special codes on the door or something?"

"You think I'm going to tell you that?" he said, and laughed. He didn't seem offended that I had asked, but he also wasn't fooled.

"Can't blame me for trying," I said. I started to open one of the Vitamin Waters, then made a show of not being able to. Joe happily took it from my hand and opened it for me and gave it back with a flourish, extremely pleased with himself for having helped me again. Sydney Sage, master manipulator.

"Yeah," Joe said. "I can come in here, use the wi-fi, whatever I want. Since I'm staying with... uh, someone else, at their place... I like to come here just because it's a bit of privacy." I wondered who he was staying with, and why he was shy about saying the name. Either it was a romantic partner - in which case, why the need to come here for privacy?- or it was someone whose name I knew. Someone, maybe, whose last name started with a W.

"I'd be doing the same thing," I said. "It's terrible not having any privacy." I gestured up to the security camera.

"Right?" Joe said, apparently not noticing the irony. "I just want a little space to myself."

"So, were you here last night?" I asked.

"What?" he said, shifting around uncomfortably.

"Were you hanging out here?" I asked. "You said you didn't get much sleep, so I thought that maybe you came here." I took a deep breath, knowing I was treading onto potentially dangerous ground.

"I don't know, I guess so," Joe said. "I mean, I'm usually here for a while..."

"Oh," I said, then added in the blandest of tones, "That makes sense. It would explain how Angeline got in."

I was watching Joe carefully, and when I spoke the dhampir's name, I saw a confusing mix of emotions flood across his face before he mastered his expression again. "Who's Angeline?" he asked. But I knew the arrow had hit home.

I pointed to the scrunchie on the floor. "Why do you have a scrunchie?" I asked. "Let me guess: you used to have really long hair?" I looked closer. "And was it... strawberry blonde back then?" I pulled a stray hair from the scrunchie and held it up to the light.

Joe stood up. "I should go," he said. "I'm not supposed to be here talking to you anyway. We're not _really_ friends or anything, at least not until... this is over."

I was starting to feel pretty annoyed with Joe. For one thing, if I was right about what was going on here, he was _such_ a hypocrite. And for another, he was being shifty about it. But I kept my tone friendly.

"Oh, be real, Joe," I said, as if I were amused. "You know we're friends by now! You share a Poptart with someone, you're friends forever. So just sit down and talk to me." I smiled and patted the ground where he had been sitting.

Joe looked down at the empty foil wrapper, as if I had actually stated a scientific fact about the friendship qualities inherent in a Poptart.

"Someone had to let her in," I said. "Someone with access. Someone with a girl's scrunchie in his bag. That was you, Joe, right? You let her in here so she could talk to me."

Joe shook his head miserably. "No," he said. "I don't even... I don't know who you're talking about."

"I saw her, Joe," I said, gently. "I _saw_ her. Last night. In this room. We both know she was here. She and I had a whole conversation."

"But she said you were –" Joe said, and then shut his mouth, realizing his error a few seconds too late.

"What did she say?" I asked, in the same gentle tone.

"She said you were hallucinating and didn't know that it was really her," Joe said, sitting down heavily. "She said you was completely tripping balls, actually."

"I guess I was," I said. "The Vigil did that to me. I had conversations with all sorts of people who weren't really there. But _she_ was really there. So... tell me. What is going on here?"

"Nothing is going on," Joe said, running his hands through his hair in apparent exasperation. As he did, he leaned his head back again, giving me another chance to look at the mark on his neck.

"You have a hickey," I said.

Joe threw his hands up to his neck, groaning. "You can see it?" he asked. "Oh my god, this is awful. She told me it wasn't visible..."

"I hate to tell you this, but it is," I said. "And now that the whole thing is out in the open, you might as well talk about it. I mean, who else are you going to talk to about this stuff? Mr. Wheldon?"

Joe snorted. "That's likely," he said, his voice thick with sarcasm.

"So, talk to me," I said. "I have nothing else to do at the moment but listen to you."

Joe gave a bitter little laugh. "Thanks for your interest," he said.

"Come on," I said. "Tell me. How did you two even meet?"

"She is some sort of ally of the group," Joe said. "Her and her people, I think."

"But her people are the Keepers," I said, incredulous. "You mean the Keepers are in on this?"

"I don't know," Joe said. He looked glum. "I don't even know who or what the Keepers _are. _I just heard the name a few times."

I thought about explaining, but I didn't think there was time. "But you _do_ know that Angeline is a dhampir, right?"

Joe covered his face with his hands. "I know _now_," he said, into his hands, then looked up at me. "But I didn't know when I first met her. I never thought that we'd be working with a dhampir. I just thought I had met a really cute, bouncy little redhead. And I'm a sucker for that accent." His face brightened with a smile. "Turns out she's a sucker for my accent, too."

_Yeah, obviously she sucks_, I thought. Out loud, I said, "So why did you guys come here last night? Just looking for a place to make out?"

"No," Joe said. "No way. I let her in because... she wanted to come in." He sighed loudly. "She's so damn cute, with those big blue eyes, and that little body of hers... And she's so... She's just... I can't say 'no' to her."

This was annoying me more and more. How could Joe work with a group that had some sort of nefarious plan to destroy all Moroi, and then make out with a dhampir? How could Joe have feelings for Angeline, and then scold me for my relationship with Adrian? And – the final insult – if he had to make out with any dhampir, why did it have to be _Angeline_? But he was too valuable of an ally to risk offending, so I tried to keep my expression neutral. At least he had the good grace to look fairly embarrassed about the whole thing. And maybe guilt over his weird hookup had prompted him to bring me this nutritionally devoid little feast. "So, you like her," I said, in as non-judgmental tone as I could muster.

"Yeah," Joe said, not looking at me.

"A lot?"

"I don't know her that well," Joe said. "We only met a few weeks ago. Apparently these people in the group were starting to doubt her loyalty, so they sent me down to talk to her, because I look so young, and they thought she'd trust me. So I drove down to Palm Springs and we ended up having this whole long intense talk..."

I wondered how long Angeline had been involved with this group. Then I wondered where I was I the day that Joe and Angeline were having their talk. Internally, I smacked myself in the head, because I had probably been freaking out about Adrian or something. Some help I was. "What did you guys talk about?" I asked, still managing to keep my tone in check.

"You know, stuff. Like about how we don't really fit in anywhere. How no one really respects our abilities, even though we're good at what we do. She never mentioned that she's a dhampir."

"I still can't believe you didn't know," I said. "I know how human they look, but didn't anyone _tell_ you about her?"

"No, no one!" Joe whined. "They just said that she was from the Keepers, and they seemed to think that I should know what that meant, and I didn't want anyone to know that I didn't know, so I just didn't say anything and..."

"And you ended up falling in love with her or something before you figured it out."

"I'm not _in love_ with her," Joe said. "I barely know her. But she's so damn _cute_." He smiled fondly, remembering. "She gave me a nickname. She decided to call me Joe-Joe. I don't know why I like that, but I just do. And she does this thing with her hair that kills me. Like she twists it around her finger and makes these little curls with it..."

"So you started up a thing with her?" I asked. "Did you visit her often in Palm Springs after your first... talk?"

"You don't get it," Joe said. "We never did nothing. I met her that one time, and then we chatted on the phone a coupla times. We never did anything, you know, like, kissing or nothing. We was just friends until last night. I mean, ok, I sort of had this crush, but nothing happened. And then I found out that she was a dhampir, so I stopped calling her. But then last night she called and said she was up here, and did I want to hang out, and I don't know, I thought it'd be ok. And the pizza place was already closed and there's nowhere else at all to hang out in the truck, so I said we should hang out here."

"The truck?" I asked. "What's that?"

"Oh," Joe said. "Never mind, not important."

"Are we all on a truck?" I asked, innocently.

"Don't worry about it," Joe said. "Forget I said it, ok? You'll find out when this is over, I just... have to draw the line." He looked so uncomfortable that I didn't think it would do any good to dig for information, so I nodded my assent. "Anyway," Joe said. "She got here at around, I don't know, midnight or one..."

"In a car?"

"Yeah, a station wagon."

"A brown Suburu Outback?" I asked, incredulous. "This year's model? License plate number 3XP –"

"Woah," Joe said. "I didn't see it so close. It was a brown Suburu, though, and in good shape. Why?"

I let out a groan of anger and frustration. "She stole my car!" I said.

Joe looked confused. "She said she had borrowed it from a friend."

"She doesn't even have a license!" I said. "She probably left the emergency brake on the whole time. Oh, my poor Latte..."

"Latte?"

"My car," I said. "My car is named Latte."

"You named your car?" Joe said. "That's cool. I named my car once. I called her 'Lucille,' like how that guy named his guitar Lucille."

I took a deep breath and released it. "That's, um, cool," I said. I reminded myself that I didn't want to insult Joe, and tried to keep my aggravation to myself. Still, though. She'd stolen my car!

"It's funny," Joe said. "She never gave me the impression that you two were like, enemies. She really wanted to see you last night."

"I don't know why," I said.

"I don't know either," Joe said. "But meeting you, I woulda though you two would get along good. I mean, she's tough, just like you are. She's fun to talk to, like you. And she's cool. And, you know, she can really handle herself in a fight, like you can."

I raised an eyebrow. "How do you know?"

"About you, or about Angie?"

"About Angeline."

"She showed me some of her moves," Joe said. "She told me to attack her, and I did, just playing, but she flipped me right onto the floor. And then she..." He trailed off, smiling.

"I get the picture," I said.

"I'm kind of embarrassed she got me so easy," Joe said, and I wasn't sure if he meant physically, or romantically.

"Well," I said. "She _is_ a dhampir." I said it as if that explained it all, and to Joe, it seemed to.

"I know, I know," Joe said. "I just didn't know how _human_ dhampirs looked. I'm so screwed."

"Why?"

"Because I _like_ her," he said, looking down at his hands. Now that his secret was out, all of his nervous energy seemed to be gone. "I mean, it's weird," he said. "In some ways, if she was a Moroi, it'd be easier. I never would have gotten close to her. But she's not, you know? And she doesn't drink blood or nothing like that. She can't turn Strigoi, either. It makes it harder to hate her."

"Yeah," I said, and waited for him to continue.

"Anyway," he said. "It's probably a moot point how I feel, after what happened."

"Because you two made out?"

"Not that," Joe said. He paused, then went on. "See, last night, Angeline wanted to go see you. Then she came out of your room, and then we talked a little, and then we, you know. We ended up fooling around. Only a little." Joe smiled uncontrollably then, and his cheeks colored. "OK," he added sheepishly. "More than a little. But then she said she had to go to the ladies' room, and she disappeared. She never came back. Now it turns out that all these files are missing."

"Files?" I asked. "Like on a computer?"

"No, I mean, like, file-files. Paper files."

"You guys have _paper_ files?"

Joe shrugged. "Mr. Wheldon doesn't like computers. He's old. Anyway, a bunch of our files are gone. Someone broke into the C-D cabinet, the E cabinet, the H-K cabinet, and the one that has the first half of the M files." He looked stricken suddenly. "I don't know why I told you that. Forget I said it."

"Consider it forgotten," I said. "I wouldn't even know what it meant, anyway," I said. But of course, that wasn't true. I could make a pretty good guess for some of those letters. Dawes, Dragomir, Ivashkov, Mastrano. I wondered what the E cabinet could be for. Then I began to wonder if maybe I'd been too hard on Angeline.

"Do you think..." Joe said, and then trailed off. I nodded in an encouraging sort of way. "Do you think that maybe she didn't like me? That she only kissed me and stuff so that she could steal the files? I mean, it doesn't really matter. But it's bugging me."

"I don't know," I said, honestly. "Angeline isn't the world's most trustworthy person."

Joe pondered that a moment. "I know why you'd think that. It's hard for me to think of her as a... traitor or something. She's loyal to my side, even if she's a traitor to yours."

"But you're not on _her_ side," I said. "I don't get this. What are you going to do now? Are you going to quit this group? Go off with Angeline somewhere?"

"Why would I quit?"

"Because you have feelings for a dhampir! Doesn't that make your current employment a little problematic?"

"I have nowhere else to go," Joe said.

"It's a big world," I said. "You could go anywhere."

"Nah," he said. "Look, maybe I've found out that some dhampirs aren't so bad. But I'm still sure about Moroi. They've got to go."

"But don't you think that any battle against Moroi will end up hurting a lot of dhampirs? It's possible that _Angeline_ could even get killed in the process of trying to wipe out the Moroi race."

Joe looked down at the ground. "By then, I won't care."

"What?" I was flabbergasted at this pronouncement.

"Look, it's looking like the Creep-a-droo will finally get here tomorrow. He's supposed to help you with your problem, by the way, Sydney. Once he helps you get past your little Moroi fascination, you can go on and have a normal life. He could even make you forget you ever _knew_ Ivashkov. Won't that be great? To just be normal again?"

"No," I said. "No, it wouldn't. I don't want to forget Adrian. He's..." Joe was looking at me carefully. What if this was all a ruse to get me to admit to something? "He's an OK guy. A good friend."

"You can make _new_ friends," Joe said. "I mean, you and me, we could kinda be friends then. Maybe you'd even get to be friends with Gary and Dave." I gave him my most skeptical look, and he laughed, "OK, not that. But you and me could hang out. We could do assignments together. I don't really have a like, friend, in the organization. It'd be nice to have someone to talk to."

"That sounds really nice," I said. It wasn't even wholly a lie. "But look. Adrian and I, we had some great moments, and I learned a lot. Why would I want to forget a whole year of my life? How else do you learn, move on? I don't believe in just forgetting important things."

Joe shook his head. "You've been polluted, though," he said. "Better to start over. That's what I want to do. I'm going to ask the Creep-a-droo to change my memories, too, so I can forget that I ever liked Angeline. That way none of this will matter."

I opened my mouth to speak and realized I didn't have a single word to say. What can you say to someone who would volunteer to forget a love, or even an infatuation?

_There was a time you tried to forget Adrian, _reminded the Traitor. _There was a time you would have waited in line for Mr. Creepy's brain wiping service. _

"Well, I was a moron back then," I told her, mentally.

Out loud, I said to Joe, "You have to do what you think is right."

"Thanks for understanding, Sydney," Joe said. "OK, I better get going. Thanks for listening to my problems. I know they're minor compared to yours."

"Wait," I said, as he got up to leave.

"What?"

"When you get back out there, could you do me a tiny favor?"

"Depends on what it is," Joe said.

"It's easy," I said. "Could you please leave the security camera on loop for just another few minutes?"

"Why would I do that?"

"Well... I need the privacy," I said, then whispered, as if embarrassed, "I want to use the um, bathroom." I gestured at the toilet. I had actually only had to use it once or twice. There was something to be said for being starved and deprived of water.

"Oh," Joe said. "Yeah. It's awful how they don't give you any privacy for that."

I nodded. I had expected him to be empathetic about this, considering what he'd said in the car about not wanting to pee by the side of the road in case someone saw him.

"Look," Joe said. "I'll make you a deal. I'll give you ten minutes now. And, I'll write a little program so that it'll give you regular intervals of ten minutes of privacy, once at say, 6 am, before people get here, and once at 9 pm, after people leave. That's the best I can do."

"That's _great_," I said. "Really kind of you. But, um, I don't have a watch."

"Well, look up at the camera. When it's on red, that means it's recording the loop. When the light's out completely, you'll know it's playing the loop. OK?"

"Thanks," I said. "Really."

"Is there anything else I can do? That's like, within my means?"

"Let me out?" I said, and Joe smiled wryly.

"Look, I gotta clarify here," he said. "I think these guys are treating you way too terrible. I think they're really crossing the line. But I also think that they know what they're doing. Mr. Wheldon, he got a vision, you know? He's going to wipe out all the Moroi. And I'm going to follow him to the end."

I wanted to say something like, "And that will clearly bring back your long-dead mother." But I didn't. I knew better than that. All I did was nod.

"OK," he said. "We're clear, right?"

"Right," I said.

"Good. Well, uh, enjoy the snacks. You uh, got anywhere to hide 'em for now?"

I pointed to the drawers on the awful examination table. "I can hide them in there," I said. "Think that will work?"

He nodded. "Yeah, I think so. If anyone asks though, it wasn't me, right?"

"Of course not, Joe."

"Good. I'll see you later, maybe." And he left the room as if in a hurry.


	45. II: Ghostsongs and Videoloops 3

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 11: Ghostsongs and Videoloops (part 3)**

After Joe left, I actually did what I had said I needed to do. Then I hid all my contraband, finishing just as light in the room turned off and the green light on the camera turned back on. I restrained the urge to wave to my observers. Instead, I began pacing around as I had been doing 15 minutes ago, hoping that anyone watching the monitors wouldn't notice too much of a "skip" when the recording ended and the monitors went back to a live feed.

I paced for a few minutes, then lay down and took a self-assessment. My heart rate had fallen, and most of my cuts were starting to look much better, although the deep one on my right arm still hurt. I was rehydrated, which really helped. And my snacks, even if they were kind of gross, had replenished my blood-sugar levels. All I really needed, besides sleep of course, was a shower and a change of clothes. Well, that, and a lock-picking kit and a gun.

Amazingly enough, the Vigil was starting to wear off, but it still was difficult to get my mind to stop buzzing. My conversation with Joe had given me too much to think about. I had gleaned a lot of useful information about this organization. The building was only open from 6 am to 9 pm, though there was a "night crew," whatever that meant. I also figured out, from Joe's comment, that "the truck" was their nickname for the area we were in, which was apparently a small town. If I ever managed to get in touch with Adrian, that would be useful information to pass along. But what on earth was up with the group's connection to the Keepers? I couldn't understand why humans who hated Moroi would align themselves with Moroi who hated... well... almost everyone.

Even more confusing and disturbing was Joe's talk about the Creep-a-droo. If this person was coming tomorrow, then it was possible that tomorrow was the day that my memories would be stolen from me. Was it really possible that someone could go into my mind and steal my feelings away? As an alchemist, I had done a little bit of memory tampering in my time, and it was always a very delicate process. I knew how to make a compound that, when slipped into a witness's beverage, made it a lot easier for me to convince him or her that the pale, red-eyed person on a rampage had just been on a weird drug. People _preferred_ to believe that. People didn't want to think that there was such a thing as monsters. Like compulsion, memory-tampering worked best on a semi-willing victim. I I consoled myself by thinking that the depth of my feelings for Adrian might protect me from such a mental attack.

By that logic, though, Joe's feelings for Angeline, no matter how deep they might be, were extremely vulnerable. He _wanted_ to forget her. How could that be? From what he'd said, they'd made a real connection. Both of them were far from home, both of them were lonely, both of them felt unappreciated. It must have meant a lot to him to find a kindred spirit. Maybe it had meant a lot to her, too. I felt sort of sorry for him, but the pity was mixed with disgust. If he was starting to feel for Angeline what I felt for Adrian, then it was awful to think of him willingly erasing the thought of her from his mind, especially if Angeline was feeling the same way. But that was their problem, not mine.

I yawned and managed to find a comfortable position at last. My muscles began to unclench. Then... time skipped a little. I thought I smelled pine needles. There was a confusing sensation of movement. And then –

The lights flicked on and the door opened. I jerked awake so completely that I actually got to my feet. Gary walked in, closely followed by Joe. Gary had a gun in one hand, and a needle full of Vigil in the other. My stomach lurched.

"I _got_ this," Gary was saying to Joe as they came in. "You really don't have to be here."

"Nah," Joe said, closing the door behind them. "If nothing else, it's a learning experience. And you might need back-up, sir."

"Whatever," Gary said, though he looked pissed off. "Bitch!" he called, by way of greeting to me. "Time for a top up!"

I wondered for a moment how he was planning to give me the injection while still aiming a gun at me. Then I saw him gesturing with the gun for me to come close. I couldn't risk defying him; Gary was just the right mix of crazy and insecure to actually shoot me. So I got up and slowly crossed the room.

"Give yourself the shot," Gary said. "Or I shoot you. You get a shot, or you get shot!" He laughed at his little word play. "End of fucking story." He put the needle down on the table.

"_I_ could give her the shot, sir," Joe said, instantly, eagerly. I couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. He didn't have to sound so happy about it.

"I'll do it," I said. I didn't know what Joe's game was, and I wasn't feeling too trusting at the moment. Besides, he wasn't even a trained alchemist.

"Do it right here, on the table," Gary said.

I laid my arm down on the table top and picked up the needle. Then I took a moment to steady myself. I briefly thought about jabbing the needle into Gary's eye - or maybe someplace even more sensitive - but Eddie had always taught me that a 4-year-old with a gun was more dangerous than an unarmed karate master. In other words, no matter how well I could fight, a gun would always trump anything I could do.

"Go on," Gary said. "Do I have to count to three?"

I wanted to ask him if he even knew how, but I didn't want to get shot. I pierced my skin with the needle and began depressing the plunger.

At just that moment, though, Joe sneezed loudly, which distracted Gary from watching me for a second. A second was all I needed. I pulled out the needle before all the liquid had gone into my veins, then quickly squirted the rest on the floor, out of Gary's line of vision. The needle was empty now, but only about half of the drug had actually gotten into my system. Half a dose was plenty, of course. All the calm, all the peace within me that I had waited for, was instantly gone. But I consoled myself that it wasn't as bad as it could have been.

Joe didn't seem to have noticed what I'd done. "Are we done, sir?" he asked Gary.

"Yeah, so long as the bitch can't sleep. Word from the Creep-a-droo is that he works better with people who are already... a little unsteady."

"Cool," Joe said.

Their voices were starting to come from very far away. The car alarm had started in my head, the search lights were in my eyes again. I wanted to cry, and I wanted them gone when it started to happen.

"You know, you really can go," Gary said to Joe. "I think I might question Sage a bit now." I looked up at him in time to see him rub at his gun like it was a lover. I felt vomit rise in my throat. I thought I knew what "question" meant.

"Oh wow, you're going to question her?" Joe said. He sounded like a kid whose parents had just suggested a trip to Disneyworld. "Can I stay and watch?"

"I'm sure you have other things to do," Gary said.

"Nothing this important," Joe said. He seemed completely earnest.

"I'm sorry, but this is above your clearance level," Gary said.

"Oh," Joe said, sadly. "OK." Then he got out his cell phone and hit a push-to-talk button. "Mr. Wheldon? Gary is questioning the prisoner..."

"What are you doing?" Gary hissed.

"Gary!" the elder Wheldon shouted, through the intercom. "What are you doing in there? I told you to get someone to give Sage the injection and then come upstairs!"

"I couldn't find –" Gary said, but his father was already interrupting him.

"Report to 613 at once!" Mr. Wheldon said. "You're leaving for the elephants in twenty minutes!"

Here was another mention of "the elephants," but I was so relieved by the sight of Gary skulking out of the room that I didn't even have time to think about it. Joe gave me a quick smile – which I couldn't manage to return – then followed Gary out of the room.

The minute the door closed, I got down on the floor for more sun salutations. I was starting to really hate the frickin' sun. A few tears escaped my eyes as I moved through the poses. Of course, I realized, things could have gone much differently if Joe hadn't been there. I had no doubt that without him, Gary might have decided to pick up where we had left off right before I had kicked him in the face in the backseat of the Jeep.

It occurred to me that Joe may have followed Gary into the room for just that reason. Maybe Joe had sensed that Gary was planning something. Maybe he was just looking out for me. Either way, he'd definitely proven his worth as an ally a few times over now.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, I was in the middle of yet another sun salutation when the door opened again. This time it was Mr. Wheldon, trailed this time only by Dave. I didn't need to be able to see auras to tell that they were both in a terrible mood.<p>

"Get her on the table," Wheldon said to Dave, with none of his usual fake niceties. I was too exhausted, both emotionally and physically, to fight, and Dave got me tied down in just a minute or two. I already felt like crying. My cuts had all just healed. If the Creep-a-droo was going to come steal my heart tomorrow, why did they need to spill my blood today?

"So, Miss Sage," Wheldon said, once I was in place. "I have a few questions for you."

"Yes, sir," I said. I had learned by now that saying "sir" as often as possible got me a lot fewer slices from the boxcutter. I didn't mind saying it. Words were just words. What did I care?

"You told me that you weren't serious about Ivashkov," Wheldon said, and my heart skipped a beat. "I believe your exact words were, 'We were just having fun. We weren't in love or anything.'" He repeated my words back to me in a wooden tone, almost like a 6-year-old sounding out words he didn't understand. "Do you stand by that claim?"

"Yes, sir," I said.

"Then, what can you tell me about this item?" And he held something in front of my face. It was the key-chain, the one I had woken up with after my dream visit to New York City with Sonya Karp. On one side, it said my name. On the other side, it said "I love Adrian," in the classic "I love NY" logo style. A crack ran straight across the red heart in the logo because I had thrown it across the room once, in anger and fear. "I thought that you and Adrian weren't serious," Wheldon said. "I thought you were just having what you call fun. But yesterday, one of my men searched your room at Amberwood, and he retrieved this item from your room. Can you explain it?"

"Oh, that," I said. "That was just a gag gift from Adrian. Sir."

"Bullshit," Wheldon said, all pretense of politeness dropped now. He pulled a pack of cigarettes from his jacket pocket. "I'm not in the mood to wrangle, Miss Sage," he said. "You lied to me. There are consequences to our actions, I'm afraid. We reap what we sow. You have sown the wind, and you shall reap the whirlwind!" He lit a cigarette and blew the smoke in my face. The smell of the cigarette reminded me forcefully of my early days with Adrian, when he still smoked heavily. The memory of those days – so heady, so full of promise and mystery – came back to me in a flood, and I tried to use them to draw strength.

"So," Wheldon said. "I have a few questions to ask you about that little bitch of a dhampir."

"Rose, sir?"

"Angeline Dawes," he said, pronouncing the words as if they were the name of a hideous disease. "Tell me everything you know about her. Everything."

"Um," I said, flummoxed. "She and I never got along. I don't know much about her –" Suddenly, there was a searing pain in my arm. I couldn't help but scream aloud, regardless of the promises I had made myself. It took a second to figure out that Wheldon had jabbed the lit cigarette into me. I could just barely see the circular burn on my skin. It hurt like hell.

Wheldon got his cigarette lighter our of his pocket and relit his cigarette calmly. "I am in _no mood_ for bullshit," he said. "That bitch stole something from me. _Tell me about her_."

For a split-second, I considered telling him everything I knew about Angeline. I had no particular loyalty to her after everything she'd done to me. But I thought of the water, the M&Ms, and the stolen files. I thought of her tearful apologies of the night before. Looking back on it, I thought that maybe, just maybe, she was sincere. I found that I just couldn't bring myself to tell Wheldon the things I knew about her - her feelings for Adrian, her loneliness at Amberwood, her inability to overcome the cultural gaps between herself and the other students. I surely wasn't going to tell him about Angeline and Joe's weird little... relationship. So, instead, I launched into a description of her that embroidered fiction on fact. I told him that she had thought that electricity was actually magic, that she suggested collecting road-kill in order to give it to Clarence, that we had had to force her to shower daily. None of that was true, but it fit in with his image of her so squarely that he nodded and wrote it all down on his clipboard.

But none of it really helped saved me from his wrath. He was in a mood to hurt something, and that something was me. I had, apparently, earned a punishment for lying about my relationship with Adrian. And when he was done collecting information about Angeline – a not entirely painless process, to be sure – I found out what the punishment was.

I don't really want to talk too much about the hour or so that followed. The whole time I just stared at the ceiling, envisioning nicer places, my friends, my loves, my family, even my car. I tried to keep the pain in my body from infecting my spirit. I'm proud to say that I didn't cry or beg. But if it had gone on much longer, I probably would have.

After Wheldon and his son untied me and left, I climbed down from the table slowly. It was hard to move, and even harder to navigate when the light switched off again a second later. It took me a solid two or three minutes to crawl across the floor to where I had hidden my small stash of medicine. With my back to the camera, I treated the worst cuts and burns I had. I was as sparing as I could be with the lotion, but still, I ran out before I'd treated all my wounds. Holding my breath against the pain that I knew would come, I used some of the other compound, the kind that didn't have any anesthesia, on the rest of my cuts. I had to disinfect them, I knew, but it hurt so much that I couldn't stop the tears from falling. Making the situation worse was the fact that the anesthetic didn't seem to be working very well on the burns.

"Hey, sweetheart," said a familiar voice next to me. I looked over to see Adrian, looking at me like he was about to cry, himself.

"Adrian," I said. It came out in a sob. I started to think about why and how he could be here, but then firmly pushed the thought from my mind. I would understand later. Right now, I would enjoy. That was the rule.

"It's OK, sweetheart," Adrian said. "I'm here now. I'm so proud of you. You're doing great."

"I'm not," I said. "I'm a wimp. Look at me. I'm crying."

"You're doing great," Adrian repeated. "You're keeping your dignity. I'm so proud of you. I think anyone would be crying right now. So tell me, what can I do to help?"

"Hold me," I said, in a tiny, sad voice. I didn't even have the energy to be embarrassed. "Please. Hold me really tight. Don't let me go."

He got closer to me, but when he touched me, his hands just went right through my shoulders and disappeared. I didn't let myself think about what that meant.

"I can't hold you," he said. "I'm sorry. I would if I could. But I can't. Because I'm not really –"

"Don't say it," I said. "Don't say it. Dontsayitdontsayitdontsayit..."

"I won't, don't worry, Sage," Adrian said, trying to smile through his tears. "What else can I do? Do you want to dance some more?"

"I can't move," I whispered.

"I thought you couldn't stand still," Adrian said.

"That was the Vigil," I said. "This dose is much lighter, and anyway, I think it's starting to wear off. In fact, that might be why you can't touch..." I stopped that line of thought just in time. "Anyway, I can't move. I hurt too much."

"Oh, sweetheart," Adrian said, miserably. "Please tell me there's something I can do to help."

"You could tell me a story," I said. "Distract me."

"I can't think of a story," Adrian said. "I just can't."

"Tell me the story you told me that time," I said. "About the little Moroi boy who grew up to be a tall Moroi man."

"I don't really remember how it went now," Adrian said. "I wish I did."

"I know," I said. "I can't remember either. My brain doesn't work."

"But you want me to distract you?" Adrian said. "What else could I do to distract you?"

"You could sing to me," I said. "Any song you want. I just want to listen to your voice."

"But I want you to like me, Sage," he said, and smiled. That's what he had said to me in Venice, when he had talked about singing like a gondolier. I remembered that whole wonderful day – our first real date. Now it seemed like a million years ago.

"I already like you," I said. "And I like your voice."

"I have a terrible voice," he said. "I always tell people, don't worry, I can pay to take you to a good concert instead. Or at least, I used to tell people that, when I had money. Now I just offer to illegally download them some good stuff from the internet..."

"I like your terrible voice," I said. "I love your terrible voice. I'd rather listen to your terrible voice than anything else."

"If that's what you want," he said. "I'll sing to you, of course I will. Just don't be afraid to tell me to stop if you can't take any more. You've been through enough." He smiled ruefully.

"OK," I said, returning his smile.

So, we sat for a while together, and Adrian sang a few songs to me with his terrible voice. I loved every off kilter note. I focused on him, and managed to tune out the screaming of my body.

When Adrian finished his rendition of Joni Mitchell's "Big Yellow Taxi," I asked him if he'd get me the bottle of Vitamin Water that I had hidden in the bottom drawer of the examination table.

"I would if I could, sweetheart," Adrian said.

"Right," I whispered, and didn't analyze why he couldn't get it for me. Don't ask too much of any visitor. That was Rule #4.

I began crawling across the floor to get the bottle myself. "Good work, Sage," Adrian said, coming with me as I retrieved the bottle, the M&Ms, and the rest of the stupid cracker sandwiches. I began crawling back, and as I did, I passed over the spot where some of the wound preparation lotion had sunk into the carpet the previous day.

"Too bad you can't use that stuff," Adrian said. "If you had some water, maybe you could pour it on it, loosen it up."

"Hmm," I said. "I don't want to waste the Vitamin Water. It has fructose and vitamins, and can help me replenish what... I lost."

"Of course," Adrian said. "Do you have any more water? Stuff that you don't need to drink?"

I thought about it. "Yes," I said. "I do."

I drank a little of the Vitamin Water and ate one of the cracker sandwiches. I took small sips and bites, not wanting to throw up, so the process took a few minutes. Adrian began singing "Bridge over Troubled Water," which I thought was a lovely song for the moment. I began to feel a little bit better as the sugars and fluids began to enter my system. I vaguely hoped that it was dark enough in the room that no one monitoring the cameras could clearly see what I was doing, because it wouldn't be fun to explain where the food had come from. But at this point, I didn't really care. I didn't, because... I couldn't. I had no energy left to care about anything except the pain I was in.

When I had eaten and drunk as much as I wanted to for the moment, I slowly crossed the floor to retrieve the empty water bottle from the drawer. Then, I crawled over to the toilet.

"What are you doing?" Adrian asked, breaking off in the middle of a verse.

"Getting water," I said. I took a few deep breaths, then lifted the lid off of the tank in the back of the toilet. The lid was heavy, and I set it down carefully, then allowed myself a few moments to rest. When I was ready, I stood up and carefully scooped some water from the back of the tank into the empty water bottle.

"Um, sweetheart?" Adrian said. He was right beside me, watching me. "Is that... sanitary?"

"It's fine," I said. "It's actually safe to drink, if I need to."

"Oh, ewww," Adrian said.

"I know," I said. "But the tank is fed directly from the water supply. There isn't any backwash from what's in the bowl. Drinking from the water in the tank is the same as drinking from the sink, and if I have to, I'll drink it. But that's not what I'm going to do right now." I began making my way across the floor to the spot where Wheldon had dropped the wound preparation lotion.

"Ok," Adrian said. "Because I'm not sure I'd want to kiss you directly after that..."

"Thanks for your support," I said, and Adrian laughed.

"An alive Sydney in slight need of mouthwash is infinitely better than a dehydrated, sick Sydney," Adrian said. "Drink it if you have to."

"I still have the Vitamin Water," I said. "I'll drink that first. _This_ is for the floor." I had reached the spot where the wound preparation cream had sunk in to the carpet, and I poured some of the water from the bottle onto the stain. With my finger, I managed to mix the water with the dried lotion, and then I was able to actually scrape off a usable portion.

"Is it working?" Adrian asked, hopefully.

"I think so," I said. I applied some of the stuff to the cuts I hadn't been able to properly dress before, and then I exhaled in relief as the numbing began to take effect.

"My little MacGyver," Adrian said affectionately.

"Finally, a reference I get," I said. "My mom and I used to watch old reruns of MacGyver together, on this little black and white TV in the garage."

"Why the garage?"

"Dad didn't really like us watching TV," I said. "Mom got him to agree to just a couple of shows. Dad said MacGyver was OK."

"So your Dad controlled what your mother did as much as he controlled what you did?" Adrian asked, incredulous.

"Well, yeah," I said. I paused. "I don't want to talk about him."

"Neither do I," Adrian said, with feeling.

I crawled back over to my corner and began eating my M&Ms. Each one was a little bomb of sugar and fat, but I told myself that I had to eat something, that I could wait until I was free to really worry about my weight. I looked up from my candy to see Adrian looking at me. I couldn't figure out what his expression meant.

"Will you sing to me some more?" I asked him.

"Of course, sweetheart," Adrian said. "Any requests?"

"Just keep singing songs I know," I said.

"That's easy," Adrian said, and started singing the old Beatles song "Hey Jude."

I leaned against the wall, just a foot or so away from him. I looked at his wonderful handsome face as he continued to sing. I was able to distract myself from the pain, from my racing heart, from the fear, by just focusing on Adrian. My Adrian. He sang for a while, moving from the Beatles to James Taylor to Paul Simon. At least with my some of my cuts soothed, and with Adrian here to sing to me, I felt relatively at peace.

After five or six songs, though, Adrian suddenly stopped singing in the middle of his rendition of "Natural Woman." "Is that someone in the hall?" he asked, looking up. Then the lights flicked on.

I looked around the brightly lit room. There was no one in there but me. I couldn't help but burst into tears. I couldn't do this alone. "No," I whispered. "Come back. Please. Come back."

The door opened, and Joe came in. I wiped away my tears and gave him the best smile I could give. I was angry at him for scaring Adrian away, but I didn't want that to show in my expression.

"Hi, Joe," I made myself say. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," he said, automatically. "I'd ask how you are, but... uh, you really don't look so good." Joe didn't look fine to me. He looked frenzied and upset. "So you're uh, singing, huh?" he said.

"Not me," I said, absently. "Adrian was singing."

"Okayyyy," Joe said. "That's uh, good."

He came over and sat down next to me, right where Adrian had been sitting a moment ago. I wondered if the carpet was still warm. Joe held a needle in his hand, a needle full of bright yellow liquid. I saw it and my lower lip began to tremble.

"Please," I said. "I had some this morning. I don't need any more. I want to _sleep_, Joe. Please."

"They told me to give it to you," Joe said. His voice was quiet, insistent. "I... I _have_ to, Sydney. They're up my butt about my attitude. I tried to tell them that you needed some proper food and water and they accused me of being a vamp-lover myself. And Gary's mad at me for following him in here. I swear, I was just trying to look out for you. I wasn't sure what he was going to do, you know?"

"I know," I whispered.

"Plus, there's this whole thing with Angeline and the files. They know I was the one who let her in. I told them that I had thought that since she was working with us, she could come in if she needed to, and they seemed to believe me, but they're giving me weird looks. No one has said anything about the hickey, but what if they know?" He looked at me miserably. "Everyone's in an uproar. Mr. Wheldon's ready to kill the next person who fucks up..."

"Please," I whispered. I had hardly heard a word he'd said. "Please don't give me the shot."

Our eyes met. Joe began to reach out a hand as if to wipe some tears from my face, but remembered himself in time. The cameras were still on, after all. "Listen," he said, quietly, his back to the camera. "I need you to do some acting, OK?"

"What..."

But he was already knocking me over on the ground and pinning me down. I screamed out loud when he bumped one of my burns with his arm. "Good," he murmured. "You gotta look like you're fighting me."

"Not acting," I sputtered. "That really hurt!"

"Hold still," he said, and plunged the needle down – right behind my arm, near the bend in my elbow. The liquid dribbled out over my skin, but on the far side of the camera's viewing field.

"Rub your arm," he hissed, as he crawled off of me. I did as I had been told, rubbing intensely at the crook of my arm as if I had just been given a shot. Really, I was just rubbing away the bright yellow liquid. The burn that Joe had bumped was hurting more than ever, but if that was the price I had to pay to not get a Vigil shot, then so be it.

"I'll be right back," he muttered, through gritted teeth. "Lie very still for three or four minutes. Literally don't move a muscle until I come back."

I lay down and turned so that I was facing the camera, anticipating what was coming next. Joe left, and moments later the light flicked out. I watched as the light on the camera changed from green to red. It was recording. I was careful not to move except to blink my eyes. A few minutes later, the light went out completely. I knew what that meant: the video loop was now being played to anyone watching the monitors.

A minute or so later, Joe came back in. By the dim light of the emergency lights, I could see that he was carrying an alchemist kit. He handed me a small black bag of popcorn. "That's the healthiest snack I could find," he said. "Eat that quickly while I mix this up."

"A healthy snack?" I said.

"I could see you weren't so much a fan of the Poptarts," Joe said, getting ingredients out of the kit.

"Oh," I said. "You're very thoughtful, Joe." I saw him pour several peculiar ingredients into a jar, and I swallowed heavily. "You're not an alchemist," I said, trying to open the package of popcorn. "Are you sure that you..."

"I don't have the tattoo," he said, cutting me off. "But I know what I'm doing."

"Is the camera...?" I asked.

"It's on a loop, yeah," he said. "But we don't have much time. Everyone's still here. If someone comes in, we're both screwed. Especially me." He looked up and saw me still struggling with the popcorn bag, which I was too weak to open. "God, you're a mess," he whispered. It wasn't an insult – more of a general comment, and one I couldn't disagree with. He opened the package with no effort at all and handed it back.

I dug into the bag awkwardly, not wanting to get any salt on my cuts, and began eating the popcorn. It turned out to be white cheddar flavor, and actually, it was pretty good. Sending my senses information about flavors and smells helped distract my brain from pain and fear messages, which was another bonus. I ate quickly, as he had asked me to do, and watched him continue to mix ingredients.

"Are you making me wound preparation?" I asked. "I could use some more. Or maybe something for the burns."

"They have the supply cabinet locked with their own lock," he said, tersely. "Guess they don't trust me. And I'm out of lotus root." Lotus root was a key ingredient in the wound preparation compound and most other compounds with soothing properties.

I sighed, then let out a startled squeak when I saw him add another ingredient. "Wait!" I said. "That's capsicum. That goes into Vigil. What are you making?"

"It's going to help, I promise," Joe said.

"Please, just let me be," I said. "The popcorn was great. I'll... I'll be OK. This last dose of Vigil will wear off in a few hours. I might get a few hours of sleep before they come back. It's fine."

"This will make it better than fine," he said. "This will help you sleep."

"A sedative won't help," I said. "And I don't want one. I just want natural sleep."

"That's what I'm giving you," he said, and poured the contents of his mixing jar through a funnel into a syringe. "I swear, Sydney, you can trust me."

"What is it?" I asked.

"Vigil-out," he said, with the ghost of a smile. "Antidote. Come on. Give me your arm."

I knew there wasn't really time to argue. Besides, so far, Joe had never really hurt me. I prayed that my instincts weren't wrong about him, and gave him my arm. He gave me the injection, and it felt like a cool breeze running through me. I shivered, and Joe pulled the towel up over me like he was tucking a child into bed.

Almost immediately, I began to feel the effects of whatever he'd given me. If Vigil felt like someone turning on a huge spotlight under my eyelids, this stuff felt like someone hitting the dimmer switch.

"It's sedative," I said. "I told you, I didn't want..."

"It's not a sedative," Joe said. "I told you, it's the antidote."

"Vigil doesn't have an antidote," I said.

"Everything has an antidote, if you know the principles," Joe said. "I'm a good alchemist, Sydney. You'll see. Just relax. You're going to be fine. But I need you to turn and face the wall, away from the camera. I don't want them to be able to see your face."

"I meant to ask you," I whispered, as I laboriously moved onto my side. "How'd you get so good at this stuff?"

"Alchemy? My older sister taught me everything, before she was stationed in Buenos Aires."

"No," I said. "The misdirection. Sliding the jar up your sleeve that time. Maneuvering the needle so it looked like you injected me. That kind of thing."

"I worked in the summers at the beach," he said. "Near the side-shows out at Coney. I did a few card tricks, magic tricks, that kind of thing. It's how I made my money. Mets tickets aren't cheap, and even tickets to the Cyclones aren't free."

"Oh," I said, even though there was a lot about that I didn't understand. "Does your... Does your..." I trailed off. I was so tired.

"Does my what, Sydney?"

"Does your sister have brown eyes?"

"No," he said. He seemed a little surprised by the question. "She has greenish eyes. Why do you ask?"

"Not like your... your mother," I whispered. It was an effort to make my mouth move.

"No," he said, carefully. "My mother had brown eyes." He took a deep breath. "They were... they were just like yours." He reached out and squeezed my shoulder, and I closed my eyes. It felt wonderful to close my eyes. "People tell me that I have my mother's eyes," Joe continued. "But I don't really look like her." I heard him draw in a very ragged breath, and his next words came out funny and pinched-sounding, like he was trying not to cry. "_You_ do, though. I have this picture of her, and it's like..." His voice became very, very quiet. I almost couldn't hear him. "It's like every time I look at you, I'm seeing her, alive again. That's why... That's why I can't stand to see you hurting so bad. I already saw my mom die once. That was enough."

I tried to answer him. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't going to die if I could help it. But sleep claimed me before I could.


	46. II: Making Up For Lost Decembers

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 12: Making Up For Lost Decembers**

Hands were grabbing me, pulling me, holding me down. I shrieked and pushed them away. To my surprise, they let go. A soft, deep voice said something I didn't understand. There was static and confusion, and then there were the hands again, touching my shoulders very lightly, taking hold of my hand and stroking my palm. The soft voice spoke again, the words coming towards me as if from underwater. But even though I couldn't understand, I knew the voice was urging me to stay. It was promising me safety. I faded out, then faded back in again. I was shivering with cold, but the hands were still there – warm, hesitant, gentle.

Very slowly, I began to relax. A blanket was spread over me, and a soft pillow was put under my head. I began to stop shivering. Someone was stroking my hair, slowly, gently, still speaking those reassuring nonsensical words. For a moment there was a bright light on my face, and I covered my closed eyes with my hands, wanting darkness. The light faded, and I relaxed even more.

Someone kissed my forehead, softly. I reached around me for the source of the caress and found a solid, warm body, one that was familiar to me. Someone scooped me into his arms, very slowly, very gently, and set me down again in his lap, with the blanket still spread over me. His arms closed around me, warm, gentle, and I burrowed my head against him. There were jagged lines of pain all over me, but in those arms I felt safe and loved. After a while, the nonsense words resolved into speech.

"I'm here, sweetheart," the voice was saying. "It's OK. It's OK now." It was a lovely, rich, sweet voice. It was like honey.

"Don't go," I whispered. My voice was so quiet, it was almost inaudible. "Don't go away this time."

The owner of the voice squeezed me tightly for a moment. "I won't go anywhere," he said. He had heard me, of course. "I promise. And don't _you_ go away, either, OK? For a few minutes, you were sort of... going in and out." There was a deep sigh. "What have they been doing to you, sweetheart? You're so..." He let out a strange, strangled cough, then added, "And your aura is streaked with fluorescent orange."

I didn't answer. I didn't want to think about what they had been doing to me. It was too hard to talk, anyway. I just smiled and let out a happy sort of sigh, despite my pain. Someone was taking care of me. I was so warm... And I could smell pine, and the spicy smell of a familiar cologne.

"Tell me later," the voice said. I could feel the rumble of his chest against me when he spoke. "It doesn't matter, anyway. You're with me now. You're safe. I'll do everything I can to make you feel better." A hand took mine and lifted it to a pair of warm lips. I felt gentle waves of warmth and cold. Gentle waves... like being on a boat... I was soothed and rocked and held. I stayed like that for a long time, until the waves stopped.

And then, things shifted. The pain was mostly gone now, and I could open my eyes, finally. In front of me, a cheerful fire burned in a fireplace, under a mantel decorated with pine boughs. In an enormous window above me, the stars shone. And behind me, Adrian's eyes, bright with love and concern, blazed brighter than stars or fires ever could.

"Hi," I whispered.

"Hi," he said, and smiled.

"Are we dreaming?" I asked. I looked around us more. We were cuddled up in a reclining armchair in a cozy room. The blanket over me was brown velvet on one side and lined with white sherpa wool on the other, and I ran my hand over the soft velvet appreciatively as I looked around. The only source of light was the fire in the grate and, I realized, a Christmas tree in the corner, which cast a variable glow of pink, green, blue, and gold. I put my head down on Adrian's shoulder again and closed my eyes.

"Unfortunately, yes," Adrian said. "This is just a dream. But this is so much better than nothing."

"Oh, yes," I agreed.

"Do you like this place?" he asked, hesitantly, then seemed relieved when I murmured assent. "I would have taken you to our forest," he said, "but I can't get there without you. So I thought, I needed someplace warm and comforting, and this was the first place I thought of."

"Where is this?" I asked, surprised a little at the warmth of Adrian's tone.

"This is my Aunt Tatiana's cabin," Adrian said. "It's in the Poconos, a few hours drive from court. She used to come here to get away from the pressures of 'royal life'." He said the phrase as if he found the mere idea of "royal life" hilarious. "I got to come out here for Christmas a few times, and they were the happiest Christmases I ever had."

I opened my eyes and looked around again. The room was clean, homey, and cheerful. The furniture was all overstuffed and upholstered in shades of blue and blue plaid. On one wall, between the exposed beams, hung a bunch of photographs, many of them of Adrian. I wanted to get up and look at pictures of baby Adrian in the bathtub, but I just didn't have the strength. Another wall was covered with shelves and shelves of books. The wood floors were partially covered with a fluffy white rug, and an obviously fake fur throw rug lay in state by the fire. On one side of the room, a large set of French doors looked out over a deck, and beyond the deck I could see the moon reflected in the black waters of a small lake. A door to one side of the room led off to what looked like a kitchen. Toward the back of the room, I could see a wooden ladder leading straight up through a round hole in the ceiling. "It's really nice," I said. "But please tell me that it's not Christmas already. How long have I been... away?"

Adrian laughed. "It's still only May," he said. "You've been gone less than a week. It's Sunday night, I think. Well, Monday morning by now."

"Ok," I said. "If it's May, then what's with the Christmas?" I smiled to let him know I was only teasing, but Adrian took the question seriously.

"I knew you'd ask that," he said. "But I can explain. See, when we first got here, I turned on every light, but you... you didn't like that. So I made it night for you, and I turned the lights low. And then you were so cold, you were shivering. So I built the fire and made you that cozy blanket. And _then_ I thought, what went better with a cuddle by the fire than... Christmas!" He smiled triumphantly.

"Your logic is impeccable," I murmured. I noticed that Adrian had gotten into the theme, and was wearing a pair of red flannel boxer shorts and a red and green plaid bathrobe, which he had left open. I, on the other hand, was wearing the same silk shell and khaki shorts I'd been wearing for days, along with Adrian's sweater. I frowned at my clothes, then replaced them with a dark green cotton chemise.

"Ah, very nice," Adrian said, and ran a finger along one of the spaghetti straps. "Slightly prim, but very sexy. Just like you. I like it. You should get one of those in real life."

"I thought you liked me in your t-shirts," I said, blushing a little at the compliment.

"I do," he said. "I like you in anything you wear. Or don't wear." He winked. I looked down, avoiding his gaze, and noticed something about my now-bare arms. They looked funny. I looked away from them instantly. I didn't want to think about it.

"I like your, um, outfit," I said, and placed a kiss on his bare chest.

"Thanks," he said. "I picked it out just for you."

I put my head back on his shoulder, cuddled up close to him, and closed my eyes again. "Let's stay here forever, OK?"

"OK," he said. "Nothing I'd like better. But... we do have to talk about a few things before we relax."

I groaned. "Don't say that."

"I have to," Adrian said, and I heard the regret in his voice. "It's just like before. We have to get the business out of the way, in case we get... disconnected. Right?"

"Yeah," I agreed, grudgingly.

"And hey, I have good news! Right this minute, Eddie and I are in a car and on our way to find you."

"Really?" I said, and looked up at him.

"Really," he said, smiling. "So you can relax. We have an address for the Wheldons, and we're going to stake them out, use them to track you down." He kissed my forehead again. "See? That's pretty good news."

"That _is_," I said, and then, stuck for words, asked, "How did you get the address?"

"I got a phone call from someone calling herself Azura Skye. She told me that she found your note, and gave me the name. That was brilliant, Sage, to leave that note." He squeezed me tight. "Just brilliant. I am so proud of you for thinking of that, even when you must have been really stressed out and scared."

I smiled, letting his words run over me like a hot, hot shower on a freezing cold night. "Thanks," I said.

"Apparently, this woman who called, she actually _saw_ you at a rest-stop," Adrian said. "Or she thinks she did. She described a girl who sounds like you, and said that you asked her for help. This was in a bathroom or something, I guess."

"I asked a few women for help," I said. "They were scared, or thought I was up to something, and they all just ran away."

Adrian frowned. "That's what this woman did, too. I want to get mad and call her a coward, but at least she had the good graces to admit that she was scared. And, she says she went back an hour later to see if you were still there somehow. That's when she found your note. Of course, it took her a day or two to actually _call_ me, but..." Adrian sighed.

I thought about that. "What was her name again?" I asked.

"Azura Skye. That's what she said."

I pictured the last woman I had seen in the bathroom – the one with the blue hair and clothes. "Azura Skye," I whispered, to myself. So she hadn't abandoned me after all. For some reason, that made me feel better. "So... You're going to find... Wheldon?" It was hard to even say the name. "And you'll come get me?"

"Yes," Adrian said. "Me and Eddie."

"Eddie," I said. "You mentioned that you were with him. He's really back on our side?"

Adrian smiled again, and this time the pride was for himself. "Yeah," he said. "I got him back on the side of sanity."

"Good job," I said, and kissed his cheek. "So how did you do it?"

"I talked to him," Adrian said. "I'm a very convincing person, you know."

I thought that there had to be more to the story than that, and said so. But Adrian shrugged it off.

"It's not important," he said. "I got him back, that's all that matters. And, in a minute or two, we can enjoy our lovely little Christmas. There's presents and cocoa and all sorts of nice things. But first... I have to temporarily ruin our cozy little reunion and ask you about where you are."

"Not right now," I said, sullenly. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Sydney," Adrian said, with a bit more force. "It's going to be OK. Eddie and I are going to save you. But if you know any details about the place where they're holding you, then you need to tell me."

"I don't want to think about it," I said. But omething made me look exactly where I didn't want to: down at my arms. I saw the lines of cuts crisscrossing my skin. I saw the cigarette burns. I saw the bruises around my wrists where I had struggled against my bindings. The wounds had all faded because of Adrian's efforts, but there was only so much he could to heal me from this distance. Tears blurred my vision. "I _really_ don't want to think about this," I said again, in a harsh whisper.

"Look at me, Sydney," Adrian said, and I did. He stroked my face with his hand. "If I could shield you from these things, I would. Once you're safe in my arms again, I will devote my _life_ to making up for what's happened to you. I'm going to help you forget all of it and just have the best life _ever_. But for right now, you have to face it. You're a thousand times tougher than me, and we both know it. You don't have to focus on the..." – and his voice caught in a funny way and he swallowed heavily. It was a full ten or fifteen seconds before he continued – "You don't have to talk about what they _did_ to you. Just tell me about the guys who have you, and the place where they have you locked up."

"OK," I whispered. "It's really... unpleasant."

"Yeah," Adrian whispered back. "So hold on tight to me. We'll face it together. And when you're done, we can open the presents, OK?" He gestured at the tree, which I saw now was, in fact, surrounded by presents. "We'll have a nice Christmas."

"Well, if there'll be _presents_," I whispered, smiling a little. "I didn't know that there were going to be presents."

Adrian returned my weak smile. "Tons of them," he said. "Best Christmas ever."

I leaned back down so my head was on Adrian's shoulder, and he put his arms around me and squeezed me tight. I took one or two deep breaths as I allowed my memories to go to the thing, the Bad Thing that I had been keeping just at the edge of my consciousness. I gripped of one of Adrian's hands the way people do when they're afraid to get a tattoo or a shot. Then I began talking.

I told him everything I could think of. I gave him a description of the room, the different people I'd seen, the hours that they kept. I told him about Joe, and his strange kindness and storehouse of junk food. I listed everything I knew about the Creep-a-droo, who was supposed to get there in the morning. When I mentioned Angeline and her mysterious visit and even more mysterious theft, Adrian shook his head sadly, as confused as I was as to what any of it meant.

"Is that all?" Adrian asked.

"No," I said, in a choked voice. "That's not all." And because I felt I had to get it out, I told him what they'd been doing to me. I began by telling him about the sedative in the car, and the subsequent doses of Vigil.

"What did that stuff do to you?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"It kept me from sleeping, or even closing my eyes. It made my heart race. It made it so I couldn't stand still. It made me start to lose my mind."

Adrian stroked my hair. "The streaks of fluorescent orange in your aura," he said, ruminatively. "I get it now. But why did they do that to you? What was the fucking point?"

"Partially so that I would be in a reduced mental state for the Creep-a-droo," I said. "And partially so that I wouldn't, um." I swallowed hard. "So that I wouldn't pass out from the pain." I looked at Adrian, and he just took a deep breath and nodded for me to continue. So I told him about the rest – the table, the ties, the box-cutter, and the lit cigarettes.

When I was done talking, Adrian silent for a minute or two. His arms gripped me even tighter and closer, and I buried my face in his chest. When he did speak again, it was in a harsh, tight whisper. "Oh, sweetheart," he said, tilting my face up to him so that he could wipe away some of my tears. "I wish I could have taken some of that pain away for you."

"You did," I whispered. "When you healed me before. And just now, when you listened to me. I feel better now." Oddly, I really did feel better now that I had gotten it all out. There was something to be said for spilling your guts, I realized.

Adrian shook his head. "I wish I could have walked into there like you walked into my dream that time, so I could have taken the pain all away for you." He gave a humorless laugh. "I've done nastier drugs than Vigil. I could have handled it."

"In a way, you were there," I whispered. "The memories of you, the thought of you... It carried me through it."

"You should never have been there in the first place," he said. Then, in a low, cold voice I had never heard coming from him before, he added, "And I swear to God, when I see this guy, this Wheldon fuckface, I'm going to kill him."

"Don't," I said, immediately. "It's not worth the damage to your soul."

"I won't turn Strigoi unless I drain him," Adrian said. "And I don't want that guy's blood in me. Trust me on that."

"I know you won't turn Strigoi," I said. "But you still damage your soul when you willingly kill, even someone like... _him_." I shuddered. "Don't kill him. He's not worth it."

Adrian took a few quick breaths, and then nodded. "Death's too good for him anyway," he said. "I'd like to make him suffer a little. Or a lot. Can I do something to make him suffer, Sage? Can I use compulsion to make him think that he just got stung by a thousand bees? Or... just been cut by a thousand box-cutters..."

"Maybe," I said, in a quiet voice. "I don't know. I don't want to think about him."

We were quiet for a few moments, and then Adrian said, "I'm sorry if I upset you talking like that, sweetheart. I just have never been so angry in my life. I mean, everything else I've ever been mad about, it's like... nothing. The only thing that comes close is..." He took a deep breath.

"Tasha," I whispered.

"Yes," he said. "But even she wasn't completely evil like this man is. She was just crazy and ambitious and fucked up in the head. _This_ guy, this... this... this evil, sick, reprehensible... motherfucking fuckface..." He paused, then closed his eyes, obviously trying to regain his cool. Then he gave me a weak smile. "But we won't talk about it anymore, sweetheart. It's Christmas, after all. We should be having a good time."

"And you're on your way to rescue me," I said.

"Yes," Adrian said, thoughtfully. "I still can't say from what you've told me where exactly they're holding you, but it sounds like it's in an office building or something. So Eddie and I will just stake out that... that fuckface's house and follow him when he goes in to work."

"Where does he live?" I asked.

"This little town called Truckee, California. It's a small town about 45 minutes away from Reno."

"Truckee?" I repeated, surprised.

"Yes," Adrian said, surprised at my surprise. "Yeah, Truckee. Stupidest town name I'd ever heard until I heard a bunch of the names of the nearby towns. Can you believe that there's actually a place called 'You Bet'?"

"But, this town, their town, is called Truckee," I said, ignoring his tangent. "You know, the guys kept saying that we were going to 'the truck.' And Joe said that at night, 'the truck shuts down.'"

Adrian smiled a little. "'The truck,' huh? Well, there you go. I guess you're really in Truckee. You're probably not _that_ far from the asshole's house. I mean, it's a small town. There's only one pizza place."

"How can they stand it?" I asked, smiling.

"I have no idea," Adrian said. "The mind reels. Anyway, so we're through the worst of it. Eddie is going to wake me up in probably about another half hour because we have an errand to run, but I can just hang out with you for a while now. No unpleasant conversations." He smiled, and I could feel him trying hard to dispel his negative mood. "Presents, then?"

"Just one thing first, before I forget," I said. "When you wake up, will you research something for me?"

"Anything, sweetheart."

"Will you look up Luna Park? My towel says Luna Park."

"Your towel," Adrian said. "You mentioned the towel before. You haven't drawn a face on it and named it Wilson or Towlie or anything, have you?"

"No," I said, smiling. "But I have been wondering where Luna Park is."

Adrian looked thoughtful. "Are you talking about the amusement park?"

"There's a picture of a Ferris wheel on the towel," I said. "I guess it's an amusement park, yeah."

"Yeah," Adrian said, nodding in thought. "It might be the Luna Park in Coney Island, you know, in New York City. It's right on the beach. They have a great big Ferris wheel, and a famous old wooden roller-coaster called the Cyclone..."

"The Cyclone?" I said. "In Coney Island?"

"Yeah..." Adrian said, puzzled by my interest.

"_Joe_," I said, sighing. Joe, the Brooklyn boy, the fan of the Cyclones baseball team, the one who worked at "Coney" during the summer... Joe, my sort-of friend, who missed his dead mother and her amber brown eyes. _He_ had given me the towel. Of course he had. I was suddenly embarrassed that I hadn't figured it out sooner. When Joe had come in that day to install the camera, I had noticed that there was already a hook hanging from the ceiling, ready for the camera. He must have come in to install that while I was still unconscious, and probably had given me the towel then. Maybe he'd seen me lying on the floor and felt sorry for me, even before the "questioning" began. I wondered what he'd risked in giving me the towel. Unlike the food or medicine he'd given me, the towel had been in plain sight every day, waiting for one of the Wheldons to notice it and start asking questions. "Oh, god, Joe..."

"What about Joe?" Adrian asked, startling me from my reverie.

"He gave me the towel," I said. I turned my head to the side, remembering. "And, he gave me the antidote, too."

"Antidote?" Adrian asked. "Antidote to what?"

"The Vigil," I said. I frowned, trying to remember exactly what had happened just before I had finally fell asleep. It seemed sort of fuzzy now. "He was supposed to give me another dose, but faked giving it to me, and then came back with an alchemist kit. He starting mixing something up, and I told him there was no antidote to Vigil. But he said that there was an antidote to everything, if you know the right principles." I remembered him pouring the capsicum into his mixing jar, and my fear. But in retrospect, it made sense. Alchemy didn't work like secular chemistry did. We worked with energy, directing and redirecting it, bending nature to our will. The antidote had to contain the poison. It always did.

"So you're saying that when you showed up here, you had just been given an antidote to that crap they kept giving you?"

"I think so," I said.

"That shit that turned your aura fluorescent?"

"I guess so..."

"Well, if I see this Joe, I'll be sure not to punch him in the face _too_ hard," Adrian said, dryly.

"Hey!"

"He helped you and all," Adrian said. "I know, I know. He gave you some food and a towel and the antidote. Great. Why didn't he give you the damn key while he was at it?" I had no answer to that, and Adrian went on. "He's still on the side of the bad guys," Adrian said. "Don't forget that."

"He's not a bad person," I said. I looked at my arm, where an angry line announced the former location of the deepest cut I had received. I wondered if the scar would ever go away. "But... I know you're right." I kissed him on the cheek. "Let's not talk about any of this stuff anymore," I said. "I mean, unless you think we have to?"

"No," Adrian said. He smiled. "And in my house, we always have something warm to drink while we open presents. What would you like? Hot cocoa? Coffee? Maybe some buttered rum or eggnog?"

"Just some herbal tea," I said. After my night of Vigil, I never wanted coffee again as long as I lived. And the calories in the other things he'd suggested were just off the charts.

"No cocoa even?" Adrian asked, pouting a little.

"Nah, it's too... sweet," I said.

Adrian started to say something, stopped, then took my face in his hands very gently. I smiled automatically, expecting a kiss. And I got one, of course. When I opened my eyes again a minute later, I found myself looking directly into his. Suddenly the world seemed like a much simpler place. "Sydney," he murmured. "I hate to have to do this, but there's no time to argue about this."

"Hmmm?" I asked, dreamily. "No time for... what?"

He started talking, but later on, I couldn't remember what he said. It was as if there was nothing on earth but his eyes, swallowing me up, drowning me, like big green oceans of light. I could barely breathe. And then I snapped back to attention guiltily. "Did you say something? I think I spaced out for a minute there."

"I didn't say anything. Don't worry, sweetheart. So, want some hot cocoa?"

"That might be nice," I said, then felt some serious deja vu. "Did you already offer me some cocoa tonight?"

"Probably," Adrian said, smiling, and handed me a bright red mug full of steaming hot cocoa. I blew on the surface, meaning to cool it a little, and saw with surprise that there were dozens of tiny marshmallows floating at the top of the mug, in all different shapes. There were normal shapes like hearts and stars, and more interesting ones, like racecars, tulips, and, of course, boats.

"It's perfect," I said, and looked up to see Adrian grinning at me.

"Here, have a gingerbread man, too," he said.

I looked at the item Adrian had handed me. It was shaped like a gingerbread man and had similar decorations, but... "This is a brownie," I said.

"Of course it is," Adrian said. "It's a brownie shaped like a gingerbread man. Because brownies taste really good, and gingerbread men, not so much."

"I kind of like gingerbread men," I said.

"Oh, I _kind_ of like them too," Adrian said. "But tell the truth, which do you like better?" He was right and I knew it, so all I did was press a kiss against his cheek. "Oh," he said. "You like _me_ better than the brownie. Yes! Adrian wins a point!" I smiled and then began eating the brownie-man. "Good?" Adrian asked. He was watching me eat with so much intensity that I began to feel slightly embarrassed.

"Yes," I said. "What? Why are you staring at me?"

"You're just so cute when you bite their little brownie heads off," Adrian said. Then, demonstrating one of those mercurial shifts in mood that I had come to expect from him, he rolled out from under me and ran over to the Christmas tree. "OK, enough of that! It's present time!" he said in a singsong voice.

"Present time?" I said, putting my cocoa down on the small end table near the chair. Then I began making presents for Adrian while his back was still turned. By the time Adrian came back over to me, his arms full of boxes he'd retrieved from the tree, the floor near the recliner was covered in various sized boxes, all wrapped in green and gold wrapping paper and all tagged "FOR ADRIAN."

"Open mine first," Adrian said, dropping a box in my lap. He was practically tapping his foot in impatience.

"Open one of yours, too," I said, gesturing.

"Nah," he said, getting down on his knees so he'd be right about at eye level with me. "In a minute. Open open open!"

I laughed and opened one of the boxes. Inside was a model car about the size of my hand – a brown Suburu Outback. "Latte!" I said. "It's adorable!"

"The little doors open and close," said Adrian. "I always liked that when I was a kid."

I looked more closely. It was heavy for its size, and I realized it wasn't just a model of a car – it was a perfect miniature reproduction. The doors opened with a latch mechanism, like real car doors. I reached my finger through the door and tapped on the steering wheel, and jumped slightly in surprise when I heard a honk just like Latte's. I carefully opened the hood and underneath it I saw the coils of motor and gears.

"It's perfect!" I said, and gave Adrian a kiss.

"Open the next one," Adrian said, excitedly.

"OK, OK!" I said, cheerfully, and I got down on the floor near the fire to make it easier.

I opened the next present to find a perfect tiny Austin-Healy. The next two boxes contained a Renault and an Opal. "These are the cars I mentioned in the park in San Francisco," I said.

"Well, you wanted to name our kids after them," Adrian said.

"I was naming koi!"

"Whichever," he said. "I looked them up. I wanted to know what the cars looked like. Gotta say I'm not sure about them. Especially that Opal. What is up with the lump on the hood?" He made a face and I laughed.

There were still several more boxes, and when I opened them I found a red Mustang, a black Mazaradi, a pure white Bentley, and finally, a midnight blue Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8. When I opened that one, I looked up to see Adrian's uncertain smile. "Do you like that one?" he asked. "I wasn't sure..."

"It's Caliban!" I said, happily. "I love it!"

"Caliban? You named the car?" Adrian said.

"Of course," I said. "It's not a bad car. It just has bad owners."

"You sound like someone talking about a pit bull," Adrian said, affectionately. "Now open _this_ one," he added, handing me a huge package. I peeled away the wrapping and found a model racetrack that fit perfectly with the scale of the model cars.

"Oh, wow," I said. There were tiny trees, bleachers, and even spots for pit crews to sit.

"Race you," Adrian said, grabbing the Mazaradi.

"You're on, vampire," I said, taking the SRT8.

"Oh, by the way," Adrian added, placing his car on the track. "They steer by gesture." He held his hands up as if he were holding a steering wheel, then shouted, "Go!" His car took off like a shot, and he began steering it with his invisible steering wheel.

"Hey!" I said. "Let me practice for a minute!"

So, we spent a little while racing our cars around the racetrack and eating brownie-men and drinking cocoa. I couldn't stop giggling. The cars were so fun to steer and race, and whenever they crashed into each other, they immediately sprang back into perfect shape. We changed cards, trying all of them.

"Are you having fun?" Adrian asked.

"Yes!" I said, trying to make my Corvette turn around the tight corner.

"Good," Adrian said. His Bentley was making stately progress around the racetrack. "I'm trying to make up for all those shitty boring Christmases you had, when all you got was books and chemistry sets."

"I told you," I said, as my Corvette approached another curve. "I didn't get chemistry sets. And anyway, I didn't get any presents at all once Zoe turned twelve..."

"What?"

"Yeah," I said. "My dad didn't think we should do a gift exchange anymore. It didn't fit in with our religious teachings. So we just... wished each other happy December."

My car slowed down and stopped. I tapped at it, but it wouldn't move.

"Your dad is an asshole," Adrian said. "Next Christmas, you're going to wake up in a pile of presents so big you're going to have to unwrap your way out."

I laughed, trying to picture that. "OK," I said. "But you know, I didn't really miss the presents, exactly. It was more about..." I trailed off.

"It was about not having a holiday," Adrian said.

"Yes," I said. "That's exactly it."

"I can understand," Adrian said. "I have some Jewish friends and some atheist friends. We still all like eggnog, you know?"

"Exactly," I said.

"So... as I said. I'm making up for all of it, starting right now. Making up for all those lost Christmases."

He kissed me, and a moment later, the motor in my Corvette started up again. I looked down at the racetrack and muttered, "Cute. A metaphor."

Adrian laughed. "Ok," he said, and picked up yet another present. This one was wrapped with thick red paper that glistened in the light. "Now, open this one."

"Open some of yours first!" I insisted, though I was curious what was in the red box.

"Fine," Adrian said. "Which one?"

"This one," I said. He tore off the wrapping paper to reveal a bright green tie, which I immediately tied around his neck. "It looks great," I said, surveying the effect of the tie against his bare chest. "It makes the outfit."

"I like it a lot, actually," he said. "Hope I can keep it." The next few boxes contained some silk boxer shorts, a cashmere sweater, a box of tempura paints, and a bottle of Noir de Noir, his – and my – favorite cologne. "I wish I could keep all this stuff," he said. "You know me so well."

"I wish I could afford this stuff in real life," I said.

"Once I get my trust fund back, we'll be able to buy anything we want," Adrian said. "It's set up so that it divests to me when I turn 30, no matter what my dad does."

"So we only have to wait another eight years," I said.

"Seven and a half," Adrian said. "You in?"

"Of course," I said.

"Gold-digger," Adrian said, and winked. I hit him gently, and he caught my arm and kissed my hand. I loved how he did that. "Here," he said, handing me the present he had tried to give me before, the one in the red box. "This is the last one. For now, anyway." I opened the box, and inside was another box, a large black velvet one. And inside the black velvet box, nestled in the white silk, was a beautiful glass heart, about the size of a quarter, strung on a delicate silver chain. "It's Murano glass," Adrian explained, as he hung it around my neck. "It's the kind they sell in Venice. We saw them on our first real date. I ordered one for you, online, when I sold my first painting. It hasn't arrived yet, so I thought I'd give you this one now."

I looked down at the heart, and could just make out the outlines of my small gold cross through the colorful swirls of the glass. Faith and love, I thought. "It's beautiful," I said.

"Yes, it is," said Adrian, not looking at the necklace at all, and leaned close to me.

When we finished kissing a few minutes later, Adrian gestured to a low table with a cozy looking loveseat next to it. On the table, lit by red taper candles, there was a beautiful Christmas feast – candles, a turkey, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce, the whole deal. "Wow," I breathed. "Dinner! I could eat a horse!"

"Yes," Adrian said. "That's the spirit, sweetheart." He scooped me up into his arms, and then carried me over to the table while I giggled. We sat down on the loveseat and loaded up our plates with the amazing food. Then, as we ate, Adrian told me about what he'd been doing for the days that we'd been apart.

"So," he said. "I took Highway 5 as long as I could, then sent the girls home and um, acquired another car." I didn't ask, and he didn't elaborate. "Then I switched to Highway 395, but I took it all the way to Reno without seeing your car. I got a room at a casino hotel, and spent a few minutes making a complete ass of myself on the gambling floor. But the entire time I was 'listening' for you, you know? I kept hoping I'd 'hear' you fall asleep. But you never did."

"So what did you do?" I asked, buttering a roll.

"Well, I decided to go crack into the DMV registry online. It was the only way I could think of to find you. But there were like, twenty cars that fit the description. Not a million or anything, but still kind of tough to go find you..."

"Wait," I said. "How did you crack into the DMV?"

"You just gotta meet the right people," Adrian said. He poured gravy all over his entire plate. It was cute. "It's weird how a lot of people who work at the DMV hang out at a bar that's across the street from a DMV location."

"That _is_ weird," I said, cutting up my slice of turkey.

"In any case, twenty cars was too many, and I was just overwhelmed," Adrian said. "It was Saturday night by then, and I went to my room and I poured myself a little port and lit a cigarette. I was feeling pretty low, you know? Spirit-darkness was kicking my ass, and I hadn't heard from you in 24 hours by that point. I just wanted to give up. And then I... felt you."

"What do you mean?"

"I felt you," Adrian said again. "Or smelled you. Or something. You were nearby, anyway. I started calling for you, and then I heard you calling back. I was probably losing my mind."

"You asked me where I was," I said, dropping my fork and staring at him. "Right? You kept saying, 'where are you'?"

"Yes," Adrian said, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. "And you said it was hell."

"It _was_," I said.

"So that wasn't... a hallucination on my part," Adrian said. "It was really you."

"It was me," I said. "Hmm. Let me think about this." I lifted an enormous forkful of stuffing to my mouth. I felt like I hadn't eaten in a million years.

"Good stuffing?" Adrian asked, smiling.

"Yeah," I said, emphatically, when I finished chewing. "You have to give me the recipe."

"It's a secret. You have to be an Ivashkov to get the recipe. But maybe if you ask me really nicely..." Adrian winked.

"_Anyway_," I said, ignoring his vague insinuation. "I'll think more about it. I'm sure there's a scientific reason for us being able to contact each other even though I wasn't asleep."

"Sure," Adrian said, and kissed my cheek. "It's so sexy how you find an explanation for everything."

"Tell me more about what happened to you," I said, grinning. "Come on, stop that. Just... tell me what happened after we... saw each other."

Adrian pouted a little, then resumed his narrative. "You just looked so forlorn," he said. "I couldn't just sit there after that. I began thinking, 'Ok, well, I'm not good at this database stuff. What _am_ I good at?' And I realized I was good at convincing people of things. So, I tracked Eddie down in a dream, and we had a nice long chat."

"Let me guess," I said, my mouth half-full of mashed potatoes. "You used compulsion."

"Nah," Adrian said. "I just pointed out a few crazy things about his story. For example, why wasn't he beaten to a pulp? He had just a few scuffs and bruises, but nothing major."

"Yes!" I said, suddenly seeing his point. "I remember thinking at the time that there was something weird about that..."

"Exactly," Adrian said, smiling. "I just pointed out to him that he never would have let Jill go without a fight practically to the death. Split lip, a few bruises? No way. Once I cracked the surface of the lie, the rest was easy. He started to fight it off, too. It was crazy, though. When I first saw him, I could almost _see_ the meddling they'd done to him. It was like part of his aura was covered with black Sharpie."

"You got through to him, though," I said. "That's amazing."

"You gotta stick to your strengths, is how I see it," Adrian said. "I can bake cakes, convince people of things, and rock your world in the bedroom, Sydney. Everything else, I need to delegate." He kissed me on the cheek, and I repressed a giggle. Why did Adrian always make me giggle? It was undignified. "Hey, do you want seconds of anything?" he asked, gesturing to the food.

I leaned back at the table, sighing a little. "I'm stuffed," I said. "I feel like I haven't eaten this well in months." I blinked down at my food, feeling confused. Something was off. Something was weird. "When was the last time I..." I trailed off.

"Holidays will do that," Adrian said, looking me in the eye. "We always eat a bit more than usual on holidays. You probably feel extra full because of that."

I smiled absently. Yes, it was totally normal. "Yeah," I said. "What about you? Are you full?"

"I'm full, yes," Adrian said. "Let's go sit back by the fire." So we left the table and sat side by side on the fur rug, near the pile of torn wrapping paper and the toy racetrack. Adrian took my hand and I leaned my head on his shoulder as he finished his story.

After he'd convinced Eddie of the truth, Eddie had agreed to drive up to Reno, and Adrian had gone out to pick up some supplies. "Just some things we'd need for your escape," he said. "I had a plan, you know."

"What plan?" I asked.

"You'll see," he said.

Apparently, it was while he had been working on his "plan" and waiting for Eddie to arrive from LA that he'd gotten the call from Azura Skye. Adrian used the information to track down the address for the Wheldons in the DMV, and then had gone out to steal a car and run a few other errands. Once Eddie had arrived, a few hours ago, they had decided that they would start their stake out in the very early morning, and devoted the rest of the night to setting up their mysterious plan. They had been about an hour and a half away from Truckee when Adrian had felt me slip into a dream state.

"You were so... bloody," he said, and the last word came out in a whisper. "I normally am pretty pro-blood, but not when it's all over someone I love. Your aura was streaked with this Cheetos-colored crap. And you were afraid of me at first. I couldn't hold you in my arms without you screaming and pushing me away."

"I didn't know who you were," I said.

"I know," he said. "Do you know who I am now?" he asked, looking at me intently.

"Yes," I said. "I know you like I know myself."

He smiled. "How well do you know yourself?" he asked, and kissed me to show me he was only joking. "Come here," he added, and pulled me to him. We lay down on the floor near the fire, my head resting on his chest so I could listen to his heartbeat. We stayed like that for a while, not speaking, just holding each other.

"Someday, I want to have a lovely night together that doesn't get interrupted with some kind of mayhem," Adrian said, finally. "But right now, I have to go. I have to check in with Eddie, tell him that I've found you, and pass along all of the useful tidbits you gave me. The schedule stuff is gold, Sage. I'm telling you. Also, like I told you, we have an errand to run, kind of an important one. So... yeah." He made a face. "I have to wake up for a bit."

"Oh," I said, dully. "For how long?"

"I'm not sure," he answered. "Maybe half an hour, maybe an hour. But, I was thinking," he added, in a brighter tone. "I can't leave you _here_ while I wake up, of course, but there's no reason you should go back to that awful place just yet. Why don't we go to your forest? You can kind of hang out there and wait for me to get back. You've been able to do that before."

"Hmm," I said. "That's actually a good idea."

Adrian helped me to my feet, and I concentrated myself back into my original clothing, complete with sneakers. Adrian for his part put on a t-shirt and jeans, which was necessary but still unfortunate. Adrian threw a few brownie-men into a baggie for me, and we set off, through the French doors and onto the deck. I had expected it to be cold outside, but it was a warm, lovely night.

"Is that a hot tub?" I asked, looking at something on the deck, something large and covered with a tarp.

"It sure is," Adrian said. He took my hand and we began walking towards the forest. "Have you ever gone into a hot tub when the air around you is freezing cold?"

"No," I said. "It sounds awful."

Adrian laughed. "It's awesome, Sage. You get a glass of red wine, a few friends, maybe some music. Then you go outside and ease right into the water. And there can be snow on the ground, and maybe the top of your hair starts to freeze if it's wet..."

I shivered involuntarily. "I repeat, it sounds awful."

"You have to try it," Adrian said. "You know, Tatiana left this cabin to me. My dad issued a formal objection, so it's still in probate – I mean, these things take forever – but I saw the will and no matter what my dad does, I know this place will be mine, free and clear, someday. We could come out here sometime... when this is all over. We could go swimming in the lake in the summer, and in the winter, we can go into the hot tub on a cold night." He winked. "_Naked_."

I smiled. "Just you and me, right?"

"Of course!" Adrian said.

We continued to walk, hand in hand. After a few minutes, a few pine trees started to appear, mixed in with the elm and maple. Soon, the forest was made up only of pine trees, and a soft carpet of their needles were underfoot. I sniffed happily, smelling the faintly cinnamony scent of the ponderosa pines. I was back in my forest.

I looked around for all the familiar markers, and found each one in turn. There was the tree with the slash in it, and the ax I had used to make the slash. And, I was surprised to see, there was the sink that I had made the last time I was here, with the fluffy black towel still hanging from a nearby branch.

"I love this place," Adrian said. "I guess you've made some changes since I've last been here," he added, pointing to the sink.

"Oh," I said, a little embarrassed. "I wanted to wash my face and stuff."

"You're adorable," Adrian said. He seemed to find the strangest things about me adorable.

"You're..." I said, and trailed off. I took his hand, and then looked up at him. "You're perfect."

I half expected him to laugh and agree, but instead he just looked me in the eye steadily for a moment. Finally, he said, "Only around you."

I looked down at the ground, not sure what to say.

"This place has always been more yours than mine," Adrian said, after a moment. "You know, while we were broken up, I tried to get here once. I wanted to sort of... feel you. But I couldn't get here. It doesn't seem to exist unless you're here."

"That's weird," I said, surprised. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," Adrian said. "That's why I didn't take you here in the first place. Like I said, I couldn't get here without you. So I thought my aunt's cabin was a good second choice."

"It was perfect," I said. "But I wonder why you can't get here without me."

Adrian shrugged. "Magic is weird," he said. "I don't even understand my own, much less yours."

"I don't do magic!" I said, much too loudly, then felt myself coloring. "I'm human," I said, in a softer tone. "I don't do magic. I just... Sometimes you just sort of... use your magic through my body. That's all."

Adrian rolled his eyes. "Whatever, sweetheart," he said. Then he gave me a wicked grin.

I could almost feel the dirty comment coming, so to cut him off, I gave him a kiss. He leaned into me, wrapping his arms around me tightly.

"So," he murmured. "I'll go wake up for a while. I'll probably be back in, oh, half an hour. And then we'll have maybe ten or fifteen more minutes before I get to the Wheldons' house and begin my stakeout."

"OK," I said, into his shoulder.

He put one hand on my waist, then used the other to tilt my face up for a lengthy, soft kiss. "I'll see you back here soon," he added. "And I'll see you in person soon after that."

"Soon," I said, proud that my voice didn't waver.

"Very soon," he said. He squeezed my hand one last time and disappeared.


	47. II: The Other Sydney III

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 13: The Other Sydney (Part III) **

Adrian disappeared, and with him went all the calm and peace that he'd built up in me. Reality crashed down around my head like a building in an earthquake. I sank down to the ground, holding my face in my hands, and told myself that it was going to be OK.

"I have a lot to be proud of," I told myself, through gritted teeth, as the tears started up again. "I went through hell, and I kept my dignity. I've been resourceful and brave." I swallowed hard. "I can freak out later. Just not right now. I need to hold it together. Adrian and Eddie are going to rescue me, and then we'll save Jill, and then when this is all over, I can collapse for a while. Not right now, though."

I made myself a box of tissues and wiped my eyes, then realized that I could do a lot better than that. I waved a hand at a nearby tree and a bright copper shower head grew from one of its branches like a strange metal flower. A moment later, it began spouting water so hot that I could see the steam rising in the air. I grabbed the black towel from the branch near the sink and hung it a little closer to the shower. Even though there wasn't a soul around to see me, I felt a little funny as I stripped off my clothes, leaving on only my two necklaces. But after a moment I got used to being naked, especially once I stepped into the hot water. It felt _fantastic_.

Once I was clean and dry, my sweaty, bloody clothes seemed even more disgusting than before, so I conjured up some clothes, courtesy of my drawer at Amberwood. I chose a gray sleeveless top, a pair of black shorts with lots of pockets, and some clean socks and underwear, as well as a wristwatch, which I thought might be useful later. After I dried off, I slipped the clothing on and examined the effect, using a puddle by the shower as my mirror. Something was missing, I thought, and I threw Adrian's sweater on. That felt right, I thought, and sighed happily. I was clean, dressed, healed, fed... Everything was going to be fine.

Since Adrian still wasn't back, I decided to make myself some tea, and I retrieved the cup I had used to drink coffee out of the other day. I was surprised to see a line of mold around the rim. I frowned. How could there be mold? Was this place... active... even when I wasn't here? It was too weird to think about, and I shelved the issue for later thought. I rinsed the cup out in the sink, and then, with a bit of mental effort, refilled it with herbal tea. After that, I felt ready to just sit down on the stump and wait for Adrian, sipping my tea and playing with a pine cone I found on the ground.

But when I was done with my tea, Adrian still hadn't returned. I got up and rinsed out the cup for later. I made myself a deck of cards and played a few hands of solitaire. After I'd won three times in a row, I got up and began to walk around restlessly. Where was he? As I paced, I almost tripped over the ax that I'd left by the tree with the huge hole in it. I found myself wondering if the tree led to Adrian's apartment, or to Adrian himself. Or was it crazy to think that the trees here led somewhere in particular? I tried peering into the gash, but didn't sense any energy coming from the other side. After a while, I had to admit that it was a dead end.

I told myself to be patient, but I was starting to feel edgy. What if something had happened and Adrian wasn't going to come back? Should I wake up? I began pacing from tree to tree, touching each one, not even sure what I was looking for. Then I stopped in front of one tree that felt different from the rest. I stood completely still, wondering what it was about this tree that stood out.

"It doesn't matter," I told myself. "Adrian will be back any minute. Then he'll tell me what the plan is for my rescue."

_Great, princess, _said a familiar voice in my head. _Sit back in your fairy woods and wait to get rescued. Why don't you have more tea? _

"That's not fair," I said. "I'm fighting this, in my own way."

_Fight harder, _said the Traitor. _Fight smarter. Adrian played to his strengths. That's what you should do. Think about it for a minute. What are _you_ good at? _

"Cars," I said. "School stuff. Organization and self-control."

_And...?_

"Self-defense, I guess." I looked over at the shower I had made. It looked kind of hilarious, growing out of a tree like that, an absurd copper parody of a branch in bloom. "And I'm getting better at control of dream-space," I added.

_Ah-ha. That's relevant, since you're in dream-space now. _

"What does that have to do with anything? I can't control reality like I control dream-space."

But my inner voice was silent.

I looked back at the tree that had attracted my attention a moment ago. "What is your deal?" I whispered to it. As if in response, the tree shimmered a little, and I found myself looking at a door, etched in clear lines on the bark. "Where do you go?" I asked it. But there was no answer, either from the tree, or from myself. "Fine," I muttered, placing my hand on the doorknob. "Only one way to find out, I guess."

The door opened with surprising ease. And on the other side was something I really hadn't expected to see.

It was... myself.

There I was, lying on the floor of that awful room, the Luna Park towel spread over me like a blanket. The room was dark, but I could just see the room by the light of emergency lights set at intervals in the footing.

"I don't want to go into my body," I murmured to myself. "I hate it there." But then I remembered what I had been thinking before. Wasn't I really good at dream logic? Did I _have_ to go into my body just because I was going through that door? Maybe I could go through the door and just... walk out into the room.

I put one hand through the doorway and waved it around. I could feel the air conditioning in the room, and something about that sort of gave me the creeps. "Come on," I whispered. "Come on, Sydney. You can do this." I put one foot through the door, then the other. I took a step or two, holding my breath. I was in the room.

Instantly, I got that walking-through-glue feeling I often got when I tried to move through a spirit dream without Adrian, but it wasn't nearly as bad as it once had been. I realized that it hadn't been bothering me at all in the forest, which was sort of strange, but a worry for another day. Right now, I was looking at... my cell? Or was it the _dream_ of my cell? I waved a hand at Wheldon's office chair and its wheels turned into tennis balls. I smiled. This was going to be fun.

There were so many possibilities, so many things I could do to this awful place now that I had complete control over it. I wanted to set the table on fire, for starters, and smash the camera to smithereens. But I knew that if I did anything that would be too obvious to the people observing the room through the camera, it would ultimately cause a lot more problems than it solved. I did, however, give myself permission to do one small, destructive thing. I looked in the drawers of the table and found the bungee cord they had used to tie me down all those times, then made myself a pair of garden sheers and cut the cord to bits.

A small part of me wondered if what I was doing would be considered magic. I mean, I was deliberately causing changes in an actual room by moving through a dream of the room. But, the more I thought about it, the more I decided that magic was the wrong word for what I was doing. Adrian was the one who had initiated the dream. All I was doing was following through. It was Adrian's magic, not mine.

When I was done with the bungee cord, I went over to the door and rattled the knob. It was locked, of course, but things like locks didn't matter to me in dreamspace. I pictured the lock mechanism, and then pictured the tumblers spinning just that small amount so that the lock would release. Soon the door swung open – but when it did, I found myself looking at the forest I had just come from. I closed the door, frustrated. Opening the door may be easy, but it wasn't going to be easy to go _through_ it. I had never seen what was behind this door, after all. But I told myself that if Adrian and I could go to places neither of us had ever been to, then I could step through this door and see what really lay behind it. I closed my eyes and concentrated as hard as I could, then tried opening the door one more time. This time, when the door swung open, it revealed an unremarkable hallway, the kind you'd see in any office building, with cheap blue-gray carpet and a ceiling that looked like linoleum.

I covered my mouth in surprise. _I had done it. _

Of course, I couldn't be completely sure of that. For all I knew, I was just imagining the office and its hallway. But somehow, I didn't think so. It _felt_ real. And I wanted to make some real changes to it.

First, I conjured up a piece of chewing gum and chewed it quickly. Then, I carefully stuck the wadded up gum deep into the spot where the door lock normally would connect and catch. I tested it a few times and was pleased to see that, while the door looked closed to the casual eye, it wasn't actually _locking_. I smiled. This was kind of fun, I thought.

My room was 503 - a prime number, I thought - and it was the last door at the end of a long hallway. I walked past a series of doors, each identified with a three digit number starting with a five. Curious, I tried to open each door in turn. It was really difficult to keep my focus, and frequently the doors led to strange places. The forest made several appearances, as did Porto. One door even led to Queen Tatiana's cabin by the lake. I looked around for a moment, wondering if Adrian was there. But no fire lit the grate, and there were ugly slipcovers on all the furniture. I shook my head and closed the door.

As long as I kept trying, though, I could always _really_ open each door, and most of what I found was pretty standard - desks, chairs, binder clips. One room was a little larger than the others, and it had a few rows of chairs set up in front of a big whiteboard. I shuddered to think what planning went on in this room. The most interesting "room" I found wasn't actually even a room – it was a closet full of alchemist supplies and compounds. My eyes widened, considering all the possibilities, and then I closed the door with a little sigh. I would try to drop by it on my way out, of course, but for right now, I had to keep exploring.

After a few more doors, the hallway emptied into a wider lobby-like area. Directly ahead of me was a set of glass doors, and behind them was an elevator bank. Ahead of me to my left was a reception desk of some kind. A huge logo on the wall behind the desk read "The Human Quorum", and featured smiling children and balloons. So these guys were posing as a charity? Gross.

I peeked behind the desk and nodded to myself in satisfaction. This was the main guard station. There were three small monitors built into the desk itself, angled very slightly so that someone sitting at the desk could see them, but so that visitors standing in the lobby wouldn't be able to. One of them seemed to be showing a constant feed of my room. One monitor was tuned to an old sitcom. The third monitor flicked between four different scenes: the hallway that I had just walked down; a large office with fancy furniture; the elevator bank area; and a larger lobby area that was probably on the ground floor. I watched for a while before I saw that it was always the same four views, always in the same order.

According to my watch, each view was active for 15 seconds. That meant that if I wanted to make it down the hallway without being seen, I'd have to scamper along in the right 45 seconds. I synchronized my second hand with the monitors, and then giggled. This was so much more fun than I would have thought. Suddenly, I began to think that it was really possible. _I was going to escape._

I paced my way back down the hallway to my room/cell, and began to plan my exact escape path. Then I found the stairway, which, annoyingly, was on the far side of the area. It would be difficult to get through here without being seen, I thought, and looked around for anything I could hide behind. In a small room near the guard station, I found a sort of office kitchen, and inside was a huge cardboard box that had once held a big bottle of water for the cooler. I dragged it out into the lobby, leaving it standing upright near a cubicle at the edge of the open area. Satisfied that this would work as a "blind" in a pinch, I began walking down the stairs, step by step, still aware of that sticky, thick feeling that dreamspace always had when I was alone.

The stairwell was an ugly concrete area, lit with flickering fluorescent lights that made me a little queasy. I began to miss Adrian more acutely than ever. I wanted him with me, right now. He would make this dream walk so much easier, for one thing. Besides, I just wanted his comforting presence to reassure me that things were going OK. I was just thinking that maybe I should try to contact him somehow, when I noticed that it was getting easier to step from stair to stair. I looked up to see Adrian waiting for me at the next landing below me.

"Adrian!" I shrieked, then covered my mouth and added more demurely, "You're back." He was still wearing the green tie I had gotten him for "Christmas," even though it looked a little incongruous with his white sleeveless top and blue jeans.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said. He glanced around the stairwell. "Wow, this is a cheery place, isn't it? I should take decorating tips from these guys. I could paint my apartment this shade of... no color."

When I got close enough to him, he wrapped his arms around me to kiss me hello. I was standing one step away from the landing, and the uneven ground put me just at Adrian's eye-level. It made it a little easier to kiss him, and maybe I let that be an excuse to kiss him a little longer than was advisable. When we finally pulled ourselves away, Adrian ran his hands through my hair, which was still damp from my shower.

"What have you been up to?" he asked. "And where the hell are we?"

"I've been busy," I said. "Um... Well, this is the stairway of the office building in which I'm being held."

"Oh, you brilliant girl, you," Adrian said, and kissed me soundly before I swatted him away.

"Come on," I said. "I want to see what the building looks like from the outside. Maybe we can get an address or something."

Adrian grinned. "Then I can come and get you," he said.

"Exactly," I said. "And maybe I can meet you in the driveway."

As we began walking down the stairs, I told him about everything I'd been doing: the gum in the door, the situation with the monitors, and my basic plan of escape. I even showed him my watch, which seemed to be keeping accurate time. He just kept shaking his head in affectionate disbelief.

"My little self-rescuing princess," he said. "I love that. I love you." I didn't know what to say to that, so I just squeezed his hand and smiled. "But won't they notice that you're not in your room?" he asked. I explained about the video loops that Joe had set up for me so that I could have a little privacy twice a day, and Adrian shook his head in surprise. "So from 6:00 to 6:10 in the morning, your room will be unobserved?"

"That's the gist, yeah," I said. I glanced at my watch. It was a few minutes after 5 o'clock.

"Wow," Adrian said. "That's cool, but are you sure that you can trust Joe on this? I mean, yes, he's done some nice things for you. But do you have proof that he will really follow through on this 'privacy loop' thing?"

I thought about it. I thought about the extreme risk Joe had taken in making me the antidote to the Vigil. I thought about the food, the medicine, and the conversations. I thought about the towel, which he had given to me completely anonymously. "I don't have proof, but I have hope," I said. "I guess it's possible that he and Wheldon have a good cop/bad cop game going on. But somehow I don't think so. He just seems so... sincere. And besides, he trusted me with this Angeline stuff, and that gave me major leverage against him."

"I guess so," Adrian said, then pouted a little. "I still can't believe she went off and made out with that guy when she had a thing for _me._"

"Are you jealous?" I asked.

"No, no," Adrian said. "Of course not. It'd be a relief to get her linked up to someone else. It's just... a surprise, especially since he's human. But I guess she doesn't really have a problem with dating humans, considering her background."

"True," I said. "Though I'm not sure if Angeline likes Joe all that much. As for Joe, I get the impression the guy is head-over-heels for her. Which of course makes no sense on a lot of levels, not the least of which is, he's a member of this stupid hate group. Making out with a dhampir...?" I shook my head. "Not allowed."

"Gotta be a mindfuck for him," Adrian said.

"It must be weird for him, yeah," I said. "And he trusted me with that information. I guess he needed someone to talk to. If I ever told Wheldon about it, I think Joe would be in for a world of hurt."

Adrian considered that, then nodded. "Point in favor of trusting Joe, I guess," he said.

We reached the ground floor, and Adrian politely opened the door for me. We stepped out into a small hallway, which we followed to a large lobby area. There was a much larger reception desk here, beyond which there was the elevator bank.

"It looks so... normal," Adrian said. "Like you'd come here to go to the dentist or something. Just a bland office building."

"It makes it worse," I said, quietly.

Adrian took my hand. "Yeah," he said. "I know what you mean." He looked over towards the door, and then drew my attention to something on the wall. We got closer to examine it.

"It's a directory," I said. We looked at the list of all the businesses that rented space in this building. There was an advertising agency, a consulting firm, and, yes, a dentist. And, listed as the sole occupants of the fifth and sixth floors, was 'The Human Quorum.'"

"Quorum?" Adrian said, skeptically. "Is that even a word?"

"Yes. It means... like, when you have enough people to start a meeting," I said. "For example, if there's 30 people in your club, and you decide that when at least 20 people get there, it's fine to start. So you'd say, 'Hey everyone, 20 people are here, we have a quorum.'"

"OK," Adrian said, clearly still thinking. "So what does it mean if they're calling themselves the Human Quorum?"

I shrugged. "I guess it means that they think that even though they're just a small subset of all of humanity, they are a large enough group to make decisions for all of us."

"Or maybe they just wanted a name that would have the initials H.Q.," Adrian suggested. "Because it sounds cool."

"That's likely as well," I said, and we walked out through the double doors. We paused just in front of the building, surveying the scene. There was a parking area to the left, and straight ahead of us, a long driveway curved around past a guard station with a lift-gate. Just past the guard station, we could see a fairly large road with two lanes in each direction.

"Wow," Adrian said, as we walked down the driveway a little to get a better look at the building. "The new face of evil – boring, corporate edition." He leaned over and kissed my cheek. He seemed to sense how on edge I was through this whole process. "It's OK, Sage," he said, taking my hand again. "Let's just get an address for this place, and Eddie and I will be here before you can say 'my boyfriend is kind of a big deal.'"

"OK," I said. "Hey, do you see that sign down there? On the lawn?" I squinted at it. "I think it may be the address..."

"Good catch," Adrian said. "Let's just get a little closer and I think I'll be able to see it." Moroi had much better vision than humans did, and within moments, Adrian was exclaiming triumphantly, "It says 12578 Sierra Drive." He picked me up and swung me around in his enthusiasm. "I know where you are now," he said, laughing. "I know where you are and I'm going to come _save_ you!"

I found myself giggling again as he swung me around and around. "You're making me dizzy," I protested.

"OK, OK," he said, putting me down. He grinned down at me. "But this is so awesome. This is the awesomest awesome that ever awesomed. I'm going to come save you!"

I leaned against him, breathing in his scent. "I can't wait," I said.

"Me either," he said into my ear. "I just want you to be safe and sound."

We stayed like that for a long moment, and then I stood upright and glanced at my watch. It was almost 5:15.

"Where are you guys now?" I asked him. "Do you think you'd be able to get here by 6:10?"

"I don't know for sure," he said. "We were hoping to get to Wheldon's house at 5:30. He lives five miles from the center of Truckee, on a road called Lookout Loop. It's right near – I'm not making this up – a street called Trappers Trail. It's like... the perfect address for this fuckface." He paused. "I saw it on Google maps, street view, and it's this pretty cedar house. A fuckface like that doesn't deserve that pretty house. He doesn't deserve anything except to be punched repeatedly in his stupid fucking fuckface face."

I smiled a little. I liked Adrian's vulgar name for David Wheldon, Senior. It wasn't the word I would have chosen, but it fit. "Agreed," I said.

"In any case, I'm not sure how far Lookout Loop is from Sierra Drive," Adrian said. "I better wake up and tell Eddie to change course. But I think we'll be here by 6:15. Definitely by 6:30. Truckee is a small, small town."

I sighed. "The Wheldons and everyone get here at 6:15," I said. "I hope you guys can get here before that."

"Then I better go right now so we can start driving in this direction as soon as possible."

"You're right," I said. "You had better go."

Quickly, before we could think more about it, Adrian and I said goodbye. He gave me a kiss and disappeared.

Instantly, the world began feeling like a glue-trap again. I sighed and considered my options. I could just wake up, of course. I was pretty sure it'd be easy to do so. But, I reasoned, it might not be the most useful way for me to spend my time. So, I began walking carefully back up the driveway to the building, through the double doors, and up the five flights of stairs. It was really difficult without Adrian, but I opened the door to the lobby at 5:34 on the dot. I lingered by the guard station for a few minutes, making sure that my watch was still synchronized with the monitor's progress through its four scenes. Sure enough, right as the seconds hand hit :00, the video feed switched to my hallway, and exactly 15 seconds later, the feed switched away again, to some other office. My watch appeared to be keeping accurate time, and the monitors were predictable. I liked predictable things.

On the way back to my room, I stopped into the alchemist supply cabinet and set aside a few pre-made mixtures that I thought might be useful in my escape. I'd pick them up once I actually woke up, I decided, then reluctantly back to my "room." Once I settled the door gently against the gummed up doorjamb, I checked my watch. It was 5:47, so I still had a minute or two before I absolutely had to wake up.

I took a few steps closer to the body on the floor. The other Sydney, I saw, had wet hair, just like I did, and she was wearing the gray shirt and black shorts now, along with the watch and heart shaped necklace Adrian had given me. That was good. She was covered in scratches and scars, the bits left from Adrian's distance healing. But the more I looked, the less I noticed the scratches. I was distracted by her body. She was so _thin_. The towel had fallen off of her in her sleep, and I could see her ribs through the back of her shirt. I had always thought that if I could see my ribs, I'd be happy. But for some reason, right now, even ignoring the scratches, the girl in front of me looked... She looked...

Suddenly, I remembered the weird painting of me that I had seen at Adrian's house, the one that we had fought about. The figure in that painting had been skeletal, a freaky zombie-like specter. The other Sydney, the one in front of me now, didn't look nearly _that_ bad, but she definitely didn't look well. The other Sydney looked... She looked...

_Sick, _whispered the Traitor. _She looks sick._

"She's just... really tired," I said. "She's just been through a lot."

I knelt down next to the other Sydney – me - and I peered at my own face closely. We were both crying, I realized. I felt overcome by pity and concern for this scarred and bony creature on the ground. She looked so defenseless, I thought. But then I thought again. No, she might _look_ defenseless, but she wasn't. She was surviving a nearly impossible situation with her dignity and humanity intact. This sick looking girl had strength that the world still hadn't seen. I was suddenly fiercely and indelibly proud of her.

_Why do you keep saying "she" and "her"?_ asked that familiar voice in my head. _I'm pretty sure that's you_.

"I know," I said. "I know that's me."

I took a moment to stroke the hair out of her face. "Hey, Sydney," I whispered to the girl. "You're doing a great job. I'm proud of you." The girl on the ground sighed in her sleep. "And um, you know... I love you. I do." The minute I said it out loud, I felt something unclench deep inside, someplace near my solar plexus. It felt wonderful. The me on the floor smiled. "I love you," I whispered again. "I'm going to um, try harder for you, OK? I'm going to..."

I trailed off as I noticed her/my belly. It was extended from all the food I'd eaten at the Christmas feast. I suddenly felt disgusted with myself, and the moment was shattered. "Well," I whispered. "I love you except for that belly."

I took a deep breath, wiped the tears off of my face, and slipped back into myself. It was 5:49 AM.


	48. II: Time to Go

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 14: Time to Go**

I opened my eyes. I patted my necklace and watch, confirming that they were still there, then I looked up at the camera. While I watched, its light turned red, meaning that it was recording. I lay very still, as I had been doing all night, and the moment the light turned off, I jumped to my feet and ran to the door. It was exactly 6:00. Time to go.

Or – _almost_. I still had to worry about the monitor that showed a live feed of this hallway for the first fifteen seconds of each minute. My heart started to pound as the second hand on my watch ticked to the :15 mark. Then, trembling a little, I opened the door – the jamb was still full of pink bubblegum – and stepped into the same hallway I had seen a short while ago in my dream. I sprinted halfway down the hall and slipped into the supply closet with only three seconds to spare.

My heart beating like a hammer, I found the compounds I had set aside during my dream and slipped them into my pockets, my socks, my bra – wherever they'd fit. Then when the :15 second mark came up again, I bolted out of the closet, down the hall, and into the small kitchen near the guard station.

I almost screamed when I realized that I wasn't alone in the kitchen. A man in a red HQ uniform stood with his back to me, pouring water into the coffee machine. I dove behind a chair, hoping that luck would be on my side. Thankfully, the man seemed more interested in making his coffee than in anything else. I heard the familiar sound of coffee beginning to brew, and then, amazingly, the man simply walked by me and out of the room.

Thinking fast, I pulled a particular bottle out of my sock. The moment the man was gone, I ran to the coffee machine and quickly tipped the contents of the small bottle into the pot. I couldn't believe my luck - this was like the answer to a prayer I hadn't even made yet. Then I scooted, as quickly as I could, from the kitchen area to the boxes I had set up to serve as a "blind" for me later. This was all going according to plan – except that I didn't know how on earth I was going to be able to get to the stairs from here. The path from the boxes to the stairs was straight through the open area by the reception desk. I glanced at my watch. It was 6:05. I only had five minutes before the monitor at the guard's station showed a live feed of my now empty room. How on earth was I going to get to the stairs in time?

I tore a small hole in one part of the boxes and peered at the guard station. I almost let out a sigh of dismay. There were _four_ guards at the station, far more than I could hope to take on even when I was at my best.

"I'm exhausted," said one of the two seated guards. "I had an awesome night. I have no idea how I'm going to make it through an eight hour shift." He took a long sip from his water bottle, and I surmised that he was very, very hungover. I'd certainly seen enough of the affliction to recognize it.

"Don't tell me about your awesome night, because I had the world's most boring night," said one of the other guards, who was standing up. "That bitch has barely moved in ages. She's half-dead from the shit they've done to her. You should have seen her the other night. Wandering around, waltzing with nobody, doing yoga moves or something... Now _that_ was entertaining. Tonight she's just been... lying there." He started laughing, and I felt myself begin to color. I couldn't believe that I was serving as entertainment for a bunch of security guards.

"Well, it'll be easy to guard her, then," said the other seated guy. I began to piece together what I was seeing. The two guys who were sitting down were probably the day crew who had just arrived for their shift. The guys who were standing were the night crew who had just finished their shift, and now were just hanging out with their colleagues for a few minutes before they went home. Why did they have to gossip right now? I had someplace to be and only – I checked my watch – three minutes and 45 seconds to get there.

"At least there's coffee," said Mr. Hangover. "It should be about done brewing by now. Does anyone else want any?" I realized that he was probably the man I had seen in the kitchen. Maybe the reason he hadn't noticed me there was that his reflexes were so thrown off by his alcohol poisoning.

"I'll take a cup," said the first night crew guy, the one who had been so entertained by my night-time hijinks. He had stupid looking blonde highlights in his hair, and I wondered idly if he'd done them himself or if he'd gone to a salon.

"Yeah, me too," said the other night guy. "I'll just come with you, though."

"Will you be able to sleep if you have coffee?" Mr. Hangover asked the other guard as the two of them made their way to the kitchen.

"Nah, I'm practically immune to it by now," said the other guard, and they disappeared into the hallway by the kitchen.

I wondered if he was immune to the incredibly strong sleeping compound that I had put in the coffee, then decided with a grin that he probably wasn't.

"Do you watch her all day?" Blonde Highlights asked the remaining day guard. "Is she awake during the day, or does she just lie there?"

"That's the job, to watch her," the day guard replied. "And yeah, she usually walks around and stuff. But sometimes Wheldon goes in there and then I don't usually watch that." He shifted in his seat. "It's just not..." He sighed. "I don't need to watch that."

"What does he do?"

"He tortures her, basically," said the day guard.

"Well, fair's fair, Tull," Blonde Highlights said. "She aids and 'abeds' monsters, emphasis on the 'bed.' You lose your rights when you do shit like that."

"She's still human," said the day guard, who apparently was named Tull. "I don't know."

"She probably gets off on it," the night guard said. "You know how chicks like that are..."

"No," Tull said. "I don't know that." There was such finality to his tone that Blonde Highlights changed the topic to a recent baseball game. I watched them watching the monitors, wondering if I could just make a break for it while I still had time and deciding that I probably couldn't.

Two minutes later, the other guards returned with two styrofoam cups of coffee each.

"Here you go, Tull," Mr. Hangover said to the day guard. "Got you one too while I was at it, just in case."

As I watched, three of the four guards began sipping at their coffees. Tull nodded his thanks at Mr. Hangover, but left his coffee on the table. I crossed my fingers, willing him to drink too, then glanced at my watch. There were only 90 seconds before the monitor switched to a live feed of my room and all hell broke loose. _Drink faster! _

"Well, I guess I'll go head out," said Blonde Highlights, and took a gulp of his coffee. "Coming?"

"Yeah," said the other night guard. "Bye, guys." As I watched, they walked out towards the elevator bank, both of them still drinking the coffee. I wondered whether they'd make it out to the lobby or just fall asleep in the elevator.

Just as the two night guards stepped into an elevator, the hungover guard stood up on shaky legs. "I'm going to go splash some water on my face," he said, and tipped the entire rest of his coffee down his throat. "I'm so tired still -"

"Holy shit," interrupted Tull. "Check out monitor one! She's gone!"

"What do you mean, she's gone?" Mr. Hangover said, annoyed. They both bent over the monitors, and Mr. Hangover said, "That's not her, there, on the ground?"

"That's just her towel," said Tull. "One moment she was there, the next she was gone." He stood up. "One of us had better go check the area."

_Please_, I thought desperately. _Please, just let them _both_ run off to the room, so that I can run across to the stairs... _

"I'll go," said Mr. Hangover. "I still think she's there. Where else could she be?" He yawned mightily.

"I'll keep watching the monitors," Tull said, and Mr. Hangover set off down the hall to the room where I had been held.

I bit my lip. How was I supposed to get across to the stairs if the other guard, Tull, stayed at his desk? I sized him up. He was a lot taller than me, and pretty muscular looking. He also had a confident, professional air to him that reminded me a little of Eddie, and I couldn't be sure that he didn't have a gun. I was proud of how far I'd come in the self-defense arts, but I still had to admit that I didn't think that I could take this guy on – especially not in my current state of exhaustion, injury, and general deprivation. But then, as I watched, I saw him absently take a sip of his coffee. He was still watching the monitor intently, muttering to himself. I willed him to take another sip or two. Just a little bit more of the sleeping compound would level the playing field between us.

A few more tense moments passed. The guard drank a little more of his coffee as he stared at the monitors. He'd had about half the cup when an alarm sounded overhead. He looked down at the monitors, swore a few times, and got up from his desk. Then, just as I had feared he would, he seemed to notice the empty boxes I was hiding behind. He stood up and began edging his way around the desk, as if fearing some sort of attack. "O'Farrell!" he shouted. "Where are you?" No answer came from the hungover guard, who probably had passed out somewhere by now. The alarm continued to blare, and the guard began to take quick strides across the floor to the boxes. "Is someone here?" he called. "I should warn you, I'm armed!"

I watched him approach. I might have been much smaller than him, but I had been well trained, and I had surprise on my side. Just as he was reaching to move the boxes aside, I stood up from my crouch and punched him in the underside of his jaw, using the full force of my momentum and the strength in my legs to break the bone. With his jaw broken, the guard's center of gravity was completely destroyed, and he reeled on his feet in confusion, shock, and pain. I used my few seconds of advantage to kick him in the groin as well, and he shrieked when my foot connected. "How did you..." he squeaked.

I took off running towards the stairs, hoping that the combination of the sleeping compound and the broken jaw would subdue him. I threw open the doors to the stairs and was halfway down one flight when I heard someone call my name. I stopped and looked up.

It was Joe, coming down from the sixth floor. He was holding a plastic grocery bag full of food – bags of chips, water bottles, even an apple. Our eyes met and his mouth opened and closed a few times before he managed to say, "Where did you get those clothes?"

I looked down at myself. I was still wearing the clean clothes I had put on after my shower, in the dream. I looked back up at Joe, not sure how to respond. I didn't really think my clothes were the main issue, anyway.

Joe seemed to come to the same conclusion within a few seconds and let out a torrent of questions. "What are you doing out here?" he asked. "Did _you _set off the alarm? Why is your hair wet? What is going on? Is Mr. Wheldon here yet?"

"I don't have time for this," I said. "I have to go." I was thinking of the guard I had punched. I had hurt him badly, but it was possible that he could get back on his feet and come after me. I took a single step down, then another, keeping my eyes on Joe.

"You can't go," Joe said. He sounded more like a petulant child than a battle-ready fanatic. "Today's the day _he_ comes. You can get _clean_ today, you know? Go back to who you used to be before that vampire polluted you."

I continued taking slow steps down the stairs, not breaking the eye contact with Joe. "I don't want to be mentally cleaned by your... Creep-a-Droo or whatever you keep calling him. Don't you understand that? I want to keep my memories. They're part of me."

"But these memories are the worst part of you," Joe said, following me down the stairs at the same pace. "It's an opportunity for you to get rid of them. Plus, Mr. Wheldon will be so mad at me if he thinks that I let you go. Come on, Sydney." He smiled as if trying to talk me into staying at a party or something. "Let's just go back and forget this happened."

"I believe that David Wheldon intends to kill me," I said, my voice calm. I didn't return his smile. "I will not go back with you. I will not let someone kill me."

The harsh words seemed to surprise Joe. "He wouldn't... _kill_ you." He almost whispered the word. "He's a good man. He took me in when my sister went down to Argentina and I had no one else to take care of me..."

"He's a sociopath," I said. "He is incredibly dangerous. I think that you should probably leave today, too."

"You don't understand," Joe said. "He just really believes in the cause."

"So he showed his devotion to humanity by lighting a cigarette and putting it out using my skin," I said.

"I know, but..."

"Fifty-three times," I said, in a whisper that was nearly drowned out by the ongoing siren.

Joe shook his head miserably. "Just come back," he said. "I'll make sure they stop doing that stuff to you. Once the Creep-a-Droo fixes you, they won't need to do that anyway..."

"They never _needed_ to do that to begin with!" I exploded. "Joe, do you even hear what you're saying?" I began to walk more quickly down the stairs.

Joe stared at me and seemed to consider his words before he continued. After a moment, he began walking down the stairs much more quickly, too. "Sydney," he said. "I know that stuff was super-shitty, but there was a reason for all of it. The organization needs you. I don't want to hurt you, but I can't let you leave."

"I don't want to hurt you either," I said, increasing my speed. "But you can't make me stay."

"I'm sorry about this," Joe said, increasing his pace to match mine. "I sorta thought we were friends or something here."

"I think we are," I said. "Or at least, we were."

"Sorry," Joe said again, and rushed at me.

I jumped down three stairs to the nearest landing, not wanting to try to fight him on uneven ground. He lunged at me, trying to push me against the wall, but I ducked out of the way so that he hit the wall face on. I began running down the stairs again, and heard him shout and start running down after me. I glanced behind me quickly and saw that he was going too fast – I wasn't going to be able to outrun him. So just before I reached the next landing, I let Joe grab me from behind. But what he wasn't expecting was for me to lift one foot up so that we both lost balance and fell forward. I replanted my feet at the last second and let the momentum carry Joe up over my head. He landed flat on his back on the next landing. "Well," I thought. "Now I'm three for three with that trick."

Something came rolling down the stairs just then, and it took me a second to realize that it was the apple. I looked up at the landing one flight up and saw Joe's bag of groceries, which he had dropped when he'd rushed me. Something about that made me almost want to cry, but I pushed the thought away and looked down at Joe. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. "Sorry," I whispered, then began sprinting down the stairs again.

After a few more flights down, I exited the stairwell and quietly walked down the hallway that led to the lobby. I could hear voices coming from that direction, and the siren was still going off. I moved as lightly as I could, not wanting to make a sound, then when I got to the end of the hallway, I peeked around the corner carefully. I had arrived at the building's lobby, which was pretty big, about the size of two or three Amberwood classrooms. Ahead of me to the left was the long curving desk of the main reception station. Beyond it were the large glass double doors that led to freedom. Ahead of me to the right was a small waiting area which featured some incredibly ugly corporate couches and a few sad looking ficus trees. And dead center were two people that I most wanted to see in the whole world: Eddie and Adrian.

Eddie was locked in a fight with three of the H.Q.'s hired guards. He looked looking every inch the professional guardian as he ducked, weaved, punched, and kicked. There were two other guards lying on the ground near them, both with bloodied faces. Adrian was engaged in a battle of his own. He was talking in a quiet, intense voice to a third guard, who wore a different uniform than the H.Q. guys did. Maybe he was just a guard for the building as a whole. Both Adrian and this guard had their bodies angled so that I could only see their profiles, and neither of them appeared to see me. "You really want to turn off the siren," Adrian was saying. "It's so loud, right?"

"Right," murmured the guard. "So loud." His eyes wandered down to the ground, and that's when I noticed another guard lying on the ground near them, apparently asleep.

"And then you'll get on the building's loudspeaker system and declare that the whole thing was just a test, right?" Adrian added. "No reason to get people worried. They'll only complain later, and won't that be a hassle?"

"I guess..." sighed the guard. "But it doesn't quite seem right." His eyes wandered over to the fight continuing between Eddie and the other three guards. I watched Eddie for a moment, too, and saw him drop one of the three guards with a well-aimed punch to the nose.

"Let's just start with the siren," Adrian said, adding more intensity to his words. "You want to turn it off. So do so." The guard took a few halting steps towards the long curving desk, then stopped, unsure. Clearly, he was not a pushover when it came to compulsion. Adrian tried again. "It's just the worst noise," he said, coaxingly. "You might get a headache if it keeps going. You can't wait to turn it off."

Just then, I caught a glimpse of movement behind Adrian and his opponent. A guard for the H.Q. had sneaked into the lobby and was walking in a low crouch towards Adrian from Adrian's left side. This guard was directly in my line of vision, but he was so focused on Adrian that I doubted he'd notice me. He looked young, and the look on his face was that of terror and rage. Worryingly, he was holding a silver stake. He'd obviously confused Moroi and Strigoi, but it hardly mattered; a stake to the heart was fatal to pretty much everyone. My boyfriend was too intent on the other guard to notice someone sneaking up on him, and Eddie was too busy fighting. That left just me.

I couldn't think of a sneaky, cool plan. So, I just rushed towards the guy with the stake, screaming. I guess he wasn't expecting a girl to rush at him and punch him in the face, but that's what happened. He swung a fist in my direction, and I ducked and took a few steps back. As the guard and I circled each other, I heard Adrian call my name.

"Hi," I called, not taking my eye off of Stake-guy.

"Need some help, sweetheart?" Adrian called.

"I think I got this," I said, and threw another punch. The guard ducked, as I had known he would, and that was when I brought my leg up in a pretty powerful kick. The guard swore and took several steps back from me.

Behind me, I heard Adrian tell his guard to go to sleep. And a moment later, my boyfriend was at my side.

"I love watching you work," he said to me. "What's this idiot's problem? Hey!" He shouted directly at the guard, as if he were shouting at a deaf person. "Hey, idiot! Get – out – of – our –way!"

Stake-guy stared at Adrian, wide-eyed, unmoving. He seemed as scared of Adrian as he would be of a Strigoi.

"Show him your fangs," I said in an undertone, taking Adrian's hand.

Adrian grinned widely, displaying the sharp, sharp teeth. "I'm really _hungry_," he said to Stake-guy. "Are you in the mood for a donation, maybe? Is that why you're hanging around?"

The guard dropped the stake and began edging towards the wide double doors that led out to the parking lot.

"Don't just run away, moron," I said to him. "Go up the stairs." I pointed towards the stairwell I had come out of. "Around the second or third floor there's a guy I knocked unconscious. You might want to make sure he's OK. He's with the H.Q."

Stake-guy stared back and forth between me and Adrian. I pulled Adrian close to me and began backing up so that there was an open path between the frightened guard and the hallway leading to the stairs. The guard took a few shallow panicked breaths, then sprinted past us in the general direction of the stairs. I could only hope that he'd be more useful to Joe than he'd been to his organization.

Adrian gave me a kiss and a quick look-over while Eddie finished off the last of the guards he'd been fighting. "You alright?" he asked.  
>"I'm... alive," I said. "I'm walking and talking.""Good," he said. "As long as you're alive." He looked over at Eddie. "Almost done, man?" "Yes," grunted Eddie, as he delivered a knockout punch to the last guard. "That took forever," he said, wiping his hands on his jeans. "But I didn't want to kill anyone, so I had to fight carefully."<p>

I smiled, looking at the pile of unconscious guards on the ground. "Hi, Eddie," I said.

He gave me a weak smile. "Hi, Sydney," he said. He jogged over to me and gave me a quick tight hug, a hug made comical by the fact that Adrian wouldn't let go of my hand. "I'm glad you're OK," Eddie said.

"I'm glad you're here," I said. "But let's get the heck out of this place anyone else shows up."

"No," Eddie said. Now that he was closer, I could see that there were small cuts and bruises all over him. "I want to go upstairs and look around. Someone in this building knows where they're holding Jill, and I'm not leaving until we get that information."

"Actually, we're leaving _now_," Adrian said, forcefully. "Sydney needs medical attention, and I want her safe and away from here. Besides, the place has got to be on lockdown now, with the sirens blaring away. You and I can come back once Sydney's safe."

With that, Adrian scooped me up in his arms and carried me through the door and outside. Eddie followed us. "Sydney looks fine to me," he said.

"She's not fine," Adrian said.

"I _am_ fine," I said to Adrian, in a low voice. "You can put me down."

"I like carrying you," Adrian said, but put me down. The minute he did, I kind of wished he hadn't. The fresh air felt nice, but now that the immediate danger had passed, the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and I was starting to feel a little weak and shaky again. But Adrian gestured towards the parking lot, and I began walking quickly along the ceder chip path in the direction he'd indicated.

"_Fine_," Eddie said, impatiently. "You guys can go. I'll stay and hide somewhere in the parking lot or something and wait for someone to walk by. I'll just... beat the information out of him or something."

"Eddie," I said. "I want to find Jill too, but we really have to get out of here, and we shouldn't split up. We'll go somewhere else and come up with a plan. These people are dangerous." By now we were coming up on the parking lot area, which was partially hidden by some trees.

"These guys are nothing compared to Strigoi," Eddie said. "And this is our best chance."

And then... things got very confusing. There was an incredibly loud sound, and another, and two bright flashes of light at the corner of my eye. Then Adrian was falling through my line of vision in slow-motion. And after that, there was a silence that seemed even louder than the noises had been. I looked around, trying to understand, and my eyes took in the scene like it was a photograph.

Wheldon was standing in the road, a gun in his hand. There was a tiny wisp of smoke coming from the end of the gun, and the look on the man's face was that of murderous fury. Eddie was lunging towards me, and Adrian was somehow still falling past me. And then there were two more really loud sounds, and two more flashes of light coming from the gun. It was almost as if the light was the thing that made the sound. And Eddie fell into a crouch, clutching at his side. There was a red thing on his shirt, a growing red thing, like a flower blooming in time lapse in a nature documentary.

I looked at Adrian. He was wavering on his feet, and I moved quickly to put my arms around him to hold him up. There was something wet and a little sticky on him, and it got on my hands. Blood. It was blood. It was –

"Weren't you going to say goodbye, Miss Sage?" Wheldon shouted. "You really have no manners."

I didn't reply. "Adrian?" I said. "Are you OK?" It was a stupid question. Of course he wasn't OK.

Adrian just looked at me, then down at the blood that seemed to be covering his chest. He shook his head as if unable to speak.

"The bullets were for you, Miss Sage," Wheldon called. "I didn't mean to hit your vampire lover there, but I guess it's a bonus. Very gallant of you, vampire, to take a bullet for her."

Adrian gave me a sad sort of smile, and I clutched at him, trying to keep him upright, wondering how many more bullets were left in Wheldon's gun.

Wheldon turned to Eddie, who was clutching at the red splotch on his side. "And you, half-breed?" he said. "I suppose you fancy yourself a warrior. It's in your DNA, huh? Your parents breed and train you to protect them, like you're a bunch of guard dogs. And then that's what you basically become. Guard dogs. I'd feel sorry for you if you weren't such an abomination against nature. How do you feel now, half-breed? Tough as nails against Strigoi, but a human, and a human invention, can take you down."

Eddie didn't say a word. He just kept staring Wheldon down, probably trying to figure out some way to gain the upper hand. Adrian leaned against me, and I put my arm around his waist. "What is the point of all of this, Wheldon?" I shouted.

"That's _Wheldon_?" Eddie said, but I didn't answer.

"What do you _want_?" I shouted at the older man.

"I want to kill you," Wheldon said, in that bizarre pleasant voice of his. "So hold still a minute." Then he smiled his psychopath smile and aimed his gun directly at me.

There was nothing any of us could do. I knew that if I ran, he'd shoot me in the back. Besides, I couldn't leave Adrian. There was no cover to dive for. And even Eddie couldn't take out a lunatic with a gun who was at least 30 feet away. So I didn't run, or hide, or dive, or anything. I just held on to Adrian tightly and sent up a quick prayer to God.

It was a prayer of thanks. I thanked Him for everything I'd experienced in this last year, the best year of my life. I thanked Him for Adrian, for Jill, and for Eddie. I thanked Him for the love, the friendship, the joy, and even the pain. It only took a split-second, but I meant it with all of my heart.

Then, just as I was bracing for the impact of the bullet, I felt Adrian draw himself up to his full height next to me. "Go to sleep," he said hoarsely, and I swear I could feel the energy radiating from him as the wave of compulsion sped through the air towards Wheldon. The ex-alchemist crumpled to the ground like a used tissue. Eddie ran towards him, and I didn't bother to wonder why. I hardly cared. Now that Wheldon was out of the picture, all I cared about was Adrian.

I looked at him, trying to think of what I could do to help him. I had seen horrible things in my years as an alchemist, but somehow I had never seen so much blood. I looked away from the blood, forcing myself to look at his face, and our eyes locked. It was as if my mouth locked too, because I couldn't say a word. I was beyond tears, beyond screaming. I couldn't even blink. I just shook my head, as if I could somehow deny that any of this was happening. _There was so much blood._

"Hey," Adrian whispered, and smiled. "Love you, Syd-"

And his eyes closed as he fell limp in my arms.


	49. II: Love is Stronger Than Death

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 15: Love is Stronger than Death  
><strong>

Calling on reserves of strength I didn't know I had, I caught Adrian as he fell and slowly brought him down to the ground. There was so much blood all over both of us now. It didn't seem real.

"Eddie!" I called. "Help me!" But my voice wasn't much louder than a whisper. The _blood_. I was soaked in it. My clothes were soaked in it. Adrian's clothes were soaked in it. It was in my hair somehow. "Eddie!" I said again, in the same choked whisper. Eddie was still shouting something. Words, they were words, he was saying words... "Eddie!" I said, my voice just a gust of wind.

"Wake up!" Eddie was shouting. "Where's Jill? Jillian Mastrano Dragomir! You have her somewhere! TELL ME WHERE SHE IS!"

At the moment, these words didn't mean much to me. Where was all this blood coming from? "I'm a scientist," I told myself. "I face the truth." I swallowed heavily and told myself to stay calm, then I pulled up Adrian's shirt – or what was left of it – and looked at the wounds. There were two bullet holes in him, I noticed, in a weird detached way, as if I were evaluating property damage. One hole was in the shoulder, in the middle of his deltoid muscle, and one hole was in his chest, in his left pectoralis major. It was very, very close to his heart. That set off alarm bells in the back of my mind, adding to the din of confusion and terror that was beginning to grip me. _If a bullet hit his heart... _

I held two fingers against his neck, feeling for a pulse. I cupped my other hand and rested it very gently over his mouth. I nearly started sobbing with relief when Adrian exhaled. I could also feel a faint pulse. "Thankyougodthankyougod," I muttered, and looked over at Eddie. "Eddie," I called, my voice a little more steady. "Help me. We have to get Adrian to the car. I don't even know where the car is..."

Eddie was bent over the prone body of David Wheldon, Senior. The older man was lying on the ground at a weird angle, and Eddie was shaking him, still yelling something about Jill.

"Eddie!" I shouted, louder this time. "We have to go!" But Eddie ignored me, so I turned back to Adrian. "Adrian," I said. "My Adrian. Wake up. _Please_. We have to go." When he didn't stir, I tried to pick him up, but the parking lot seemed impossibly far away and Adrian was much too heavy for me to carry.

I took two or three seconds to reassure myself that he was still breathing, then I resolutely got to my feet. I looked over at Eddie, down at Adrian, and over at Eddie again. Eddie wasn't showing any signs of moving away from Wheldon, and Wheldon wasn't showing any signs of waking up, no matter how hard Eddie was shaking him. I noticed the red stain on Eddie's shirt continuing to grow.

"Eddie," I said, as I crossed the short distance to him. "Come on. Help me get Adrian to the car and then let's go. We can do something about your... side, too."

In the distance, I could hear police sirens. That wasn't good.

"This is that guy Wheldon," Eddie said, as if he hadn't heard me. "Adrian told me about him. This is the guy who knows where Jill is. He might be the only one who knows. I'm not leaving until he tells me where she is."

"Adrian is _dying_," I said, in a voice I almost didn't recognize. "You've been shot. The police are coming. We have to go _now_."

"Not until I know where Jill is," Eddie growled. "I'll take this fucker with us if I have to."

The injured dhampir lifted the large human off the ground. As he did so, I saw that Wheldon's head was also bleeding, apparently from his impact with the concrete a moment ago. There was something about the way the man was just completely limp in Eddie's hands... . Not even his eyes fluttered.

"Eddie," I said, putting my hand on my friend's shoulder. "Eddie, I don't think..."

"Wake _up_, you motherfucker," Eddie said, as he began to carry the man in the direction of the car. "Wake up and tell me where Jill is or so help me..."

I reached out a hand and lifted Wheldon's wrist with my hand, then placed two fingers against the spot where the pulse should be. Eddie watched my hand movement stupidly, but didn't object.

I rested my hand back on Eddie's shoulder and said, "He's dead, Eddie. We have to go."

"No!" shouted Eddie. "No. He can die later. Right now, we need him. He can tell us where... Jill... is..." I had never seen Eddie like this. Calm, professional, kind, slightly detached Eddie was replaced with a wild-eyed creature who I barely knew.

"I agree that Wheldon knew useful things," I said. "But now he's dead. And you're alive, and I'm alive, and Adrian is barely alive. We have to go now before that changes."

"No," said Eddie again. He began shaking the dead man again.

"We can't save Jill if we're dead too," I said, trying to get back the rational Eddie I knew. "We have to go _now_. There are more guards inside. They might come out at any moment."

Eddie stood up, but made no move toward me or Adrian. He looked back and forth from Adrian to the dead man, stuck between the facts of the situation and his nearly unconquerable need to save Jill.

"If Adrian dies, Jill will want to die too, because of the bond," I said. "Plus, Adrian is our best chance to find Jill now. There may be a way to use the bond to find her."

That seemed to do it. Suddenly, Eddie moved in that lightening fast way of his. He was at Adrian's side in a second and scooped the Moroi up and began walking towards the parking lot.

"Come on," he called to me, as if I hadn't been the one pushing for that all along. I ran along as quickly as I could and together we helped get Adrian into the backseat of a white Toyota 4x4. I got into the backseat too, while Eddie got into the driver's seat and started the ignition. Adrian was lying down, his head on the right side of the car, his legs bent slightly so that he'd fit. I had to kneel on the floor, my back against the front passenger's seat, which I pushed up as far as I could so that I'd have room to maneuver.

As we backed out of the parking spot, I looked down at Adrian and tried to take stock of the situation as calmly as I could. His shirt was tattered and soaked with blood. His eyes were closed and his features were slack. He was breathing, though, and I sent up a quick prayer to God. Just one word: _Please_. I trusted God to understand the rest. But I knew that a lot of what happened next would be up to me.

I had the things I'd stolen from the alchemist supply cabinet, as well as my alchemist kit, which was tucked behind the driver's seat - Adrian had brought it for me, just as he said he would. I started taking out things I thought would be useful, just as Eddie shouted "hang on!" and bulldozed us straight through the lift gate. An alarm started blaring, but it hardly seemed to matter.

With my shears, I cut off the remnants of Adrian's shirt. Then I began calibrating my stone magnet to the frequency of lead.

"What's going on?" Eddie called from the front seat. "He's still breathing right? I'm going to take him to a hospital. There's one about ten miles away..."

"Not safe for us," I said. "Police."

"I know," Eddie said, miserably. The sirens were getting much louder now. "But... what else can we do?"

"I'm going to save him myself," I said. "Just get us away, OK?" I held my calibrated magnet over Adrian's wounded shoulder, but the bullet stayed stubbornly inside Adrian's body. I let out an aggravated noise and began recalibrating the magnet for a steel blend.

"You can't help him," Eddie said. "If we take him to the hospital, at least he won't die. And I can bust us out once they've treated him."

"Human hospital," I said, tersely. "They can't help him. Won't understand his body. I can help."

"Sure?" Eddie said. He couldn't look behind him, since he was driving, but I knew he had seen how much blood was pouring out of Adrian when we'd put him in the car.

"Yes," I said.

"Fine," Eddie said, and I felt the car accelerate to what felt like around 100 miles an hour.

I barely paid attention to what Eddie was doing, though. My world was this backseat, and this man bleeding on the cushions. The magnet still wasn't working, and I came to the conclusion that the bullet was probably in a copper casing. For the third time, I recalibrated the magnet, then held it in position to extract the bullet. This time, I felt the connection as the magnet made the connection to the copper, and I slowly began to withdraw the bullet from Adrian's shoulder. As the bullet moved through his flesh, Adrian let out a moan of pain.

"I'm sorry," I murmured to him. "I know it hurts. But it won't hurt for too long."

"What are you doing?" Eddie asked, and swerved the car around some obstacle. I didn't look to see what it was.

"Withdrawing the bullets," I replied, through gritted teeth, as the bullet finally slid out through the original wound. In a softer voice, I added to Adrian, "There it goes. It's out. Just one to go. You're doing great."

"Are you crazy?" Eddie shouted. "You never take out a bullet in the field! That'll kill him for sure!"

"Leaving it in won't help much either," I said. "You just are used to secular medicine. That's not what I do." As I spoke, I opened a jar of wound preparation, then paused. What if it was the awful, anesthetic free version they had given me to prolong my life and my pain? I was afraid that if I caused Adrian too much pain, he might go further into shock. "Eddie, be my guinea pig," I said.

"What?"

I reached over and dabbed some of the lotion against one of the small cuts on Eddie's arm. "Does that make it hurt worse or feel better?" I asked.

Eddie exhaled in surprise. "Wow, Sydney, warn me before you –"

"_Better or worse?_" I said, interrupting him.

"Better!" he said, irritated. "Much better."

"Good," I said, and immediately began applying some to Adrian's shoulder wound. The tight lines on Adrian's face relaxed a little, even in his semi-conscious state. At least now his pain would be eased.

I crossed myself for luck, and then sprayed the wound with an alchemist fixative I had stolen from the HQ. This substance wasn't usually used medically; it was technology designed to "freeze" something in its current state. It could keep a room from getting dusty, or keep a soap bubble from popping, or keep fruit from rotting. I had heard a rumor that some alchemists, ones in thrall to the sin of vanity, sprayed it on their face once a week to prevent aging. It wouldn't _heal_ Adrian, but it could maybe prevent him from bleeding out, which was the major danger right now. As I watched, the area I had sprayed stopped bleeding. That was a small mercy, anyway.

I had treated one wound fairly successfully now. But the shoulder bullet had just been practice, I knew. The other wound was the one that would count.

"OK, my Adrian," I murmured, and stroked his hair. "Just one more to go. It'll hurt for a minute, but then it'll feel better." Adrian didn't react, but he was still breathing.

I aligned the stone magnet to the other wound, and as gently as I could, I removed the other bullet. I had to stop a few times as Eddie made some insane turns. But after a minute or two the metal thing was lying in the palm of my hand, where I regarded it with an intense burst of hatred for a split second before I tucked it into my pocket.

Wound preparation lotion. Fixative. Prayer. It was all I could do for him. But Moroi healed quickly, right? They weren't like dhampirs, of course, but they were a healthy, long-lived race. That's why their blood helped activate the healing charm in my tattoo. Adrian would be fine. He had to be. We hadn't gone through everything we'd gone through for him to die now. That was just impossible.

"It'll be OK," I whispered to him. "I'm here, Adrian. I took out the bullets. I'm using alchemist technology to save you. You're going to be fine."

His eyes opened a little and a sleepy smile spread across his face. "Hi," he whispered. "Did I... rescue you... yet?"

"You did an amazing job," I said, and blinked a couple times to clear the tears from my eyes. "You're a hero. You rescued me twice. Three times, actually. You took Wheldon down. Eddie and I are safe now because of you."

"Cool," he whispered. "Told you. I'm a … big deal."

"I love you, you know," I said, my hand going up to hold the glass heart pendant he'd given me in the dream.

"Yeah," he said, and smiled again, a wider smile this time. "Knew it."

Then his eyes closed again, and he exhaled... but didn't inhale again. I counted to three. Then I put my head down on his chest, listening for his heartbeat, that sound I had always loved so much.

But there was only silence.

I sat motionless for a moment, as the silence inside of Adrian grew, reverberated, and became a river of deafening silence flowing through _me_, too. I drew in a shaky breath, and then exhaled it in a wordless, almost soundless, cry.

My Adrian. I could handle cuts, and burns, and lies, and conspiracies. But not losing Adrian. It couldn't be happening. It couldn't be real.

_It's __not__ real, _whispered a familiar voice._ He's not dead yet. You can still save him. _

"How?" I asked myself in a whisper.

_Heal him,_ the voice advised.

"But I can't heal him," I whispered. "I don't do magic. I'm human. I don't do magic."

_Adrian needs you, you idiot_, the Traitor said. _Are you going to let him die just because you don't do magic? You obviously _do_. So do it now_.

"I can't," I said out loud. "I can't!"

"Can't what?" Eddie asked from the front seat.

"Can't do magic," I said.

"Did anyone ever say you could?" Eddie replied, testily. "Are you sure I shouldn't find a hospital?"

"There's no time," I said. "He isn't breathing. His heart stopped."

"What?" I heard Eddie say. "Shit shit shit shit... Can you do CPR?" But I had already tuned him out.

_He's not dead yet! _the Traitor shouted again_. But you have only a few seconds before he is. Do something, or you will never forgive yourself. _

I put one hand over the bullet wound on his shoulder and the other one over the wound near his heart, wishing I could close them. The action reminded me of a line from the Bible... "Place me like a seal over thy heart," I whispered.

Suddenly, in my mind, I was transported miles and months away, to a courtyard in Porto, a courtyard decorated with scenes from the Song of Solomon. I had quoted some verses from the book to Adrian, and he had liked them. Even now, I could almost feel the touch of his finger running gently over my lips. I could almost hear his deep, lovely voice saying, "I like hearing you talk about love."

"Place me like a seal over thy heart," I said again near his ear. I kept my hands on the wounds on his chest, and, closing my eyes, I began to imagine the wounds closing. "For love is as strong as death," I said, and suddenly I felt something _catch_ inside of me, something that connected me to Adrian, like the magnet had connected to the bullet. "Love flashes like fire, the brightest kind of flame," I said. "Many waters cannot quench love, nor can rivers drown it." Inside of me, I pulled on that connection, and felt a power move through me, stronger than anything I had ever felt before. It was a little like the time a few days ago when Adrian had healed my concussion in the forest, when he'd asked me to serve as a conduit for his magic. Only this time, I was using his power to heal _him_, not myself. And this time, I was opening myself up to his magic completely.

How on earth had I ever thought that Adrian's magic was evil? Experiencing it now from the inside, I began to understand him even more than I ever had, and loved him all the more for it. This was the essence of his spirit, his soul. It was flooding through me, and it was _so beautiful_. It was like being inside the sun.

"Love isn't _as_ strong as death," I said, feeling a smile blossom on my face, even as tears continued to fall. "Love is _stronger_ than death. Come on, Adrian. Live. You said you'd rather live for your beliefs than die for them. So _live_."

Then I reached into him, with my mind and my spirit and everything I had. I found the part of him that was slipping away and pulled it back. I found the severed connections in his body and reforged them. I found the empty places the bullets had left and refilled them. It was easy now, with Adrian's power moving through me like a wonderful, consuming fire, like a tidal wave of joy, like the most beautiful song you ever heard. Distantly, I heard Eddie shouting something at me, but I didn't care. There was nothing, nothing in the world but me, Adrian, and Adrian's beautiful spirit magic.

And then...

Adrian's chest moved beneath my hands. _He was breathing. _

I broke the connection between us with a gasp and fell back against the back of the passenger seat, my eyes wide, my breathing heavy. I felt as if I had just woken up from the longest, most beautiful dream I'd ever had. It almost hurt to have that feeling gone from inside of me. But even more beautiful than any dream was the sight of Adrian opening his eyes and looking at me.

"Sage?" he said, in a ragged, painful sounding voice. "What's going on?"

"Love is stronger than death," I heard myself saying. It didn't really answer his question, but for some reason, that seemed like the best reply.

"Course it is," Adrian said, and closed his eyes again. But he kept breathing. I put my head down near his heart and listened to it beating, quietly, reassuringly, inside his wounded chest.


	50. II: I Do, Dont You?

**Book II: These Three Remain_  
><em>**

**Chapter 16: I Do. Don't You?  
><strong>

"What the fuck is going on back there?" Eddie shouted, without looking back. That was for the best, considering he was driving full speed on twisting back roads.

"We don't need a hospital," I said, straightening up.

"I thought you said his heart had stopped," Eddie said.

"Love is stronger than death," I said again, loudly, joyfully, and pressed kisses all over Adrian's face. I felt an insane urge to giggle with relief.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"I don't know exactly," I said. "But Adrian's fine. I mean, pretty much."

"What do you mean, fine?" Eddie said, and swerved suddenly. "Sorry, there was a squirrel."

"I healed him with his own magic," I said. "Or something."

"He's really OK?" Eddie said.

"I'm really OK," Adrian said, in a creaky voice. "But I'm kind of cold."

"I'll turn up the heat," Eddie said.

"Hey, Sage," Adrian whispered. "Did I get shot? I feel like I got shot."

"You did," I said. "I'm going to look at your wounds, OK?"

He nodded and closed his eyes again. I took off the cashmere sweater - it was completely soaked in blood - and wrapped it around Adrian's shoulders like a shawl, hoping to keep him warm. Then I found the scraps of his t-shirt that I'd tossed aside and used them to wipe the blood off of his chest. Eddie was still driving like a lunatic, so I had to steady myself carefully as I worked. Within a few minutes, Adrian's skin was fairly clean and I could see his wounds.

I wrinkled my nose in disappointment. The bullet wounds were still there. I wasn't strong enough to heal Adrian completely, as he could have healed me. For a moment, I wished that he had just let _me_ get shot. He could have healed me better than I had healed him. I pushed the thought from my mind and examined the wounds more carefully. They really weren't _that_ bad, considering. They looked a few days old, rather than a few minutes old, and they were only bleeding a little at the edges. It was impossible to tell what was happening under the skin, of course, but the beating heart and functioning lungs told me most of what I needed to know.

To be on the safe side, I dabbed some more wound preparation lotion on the two wounds. Then, I dug into my alchemist kit for some of the gauze and first-aid tape that I had last used to bandage Adrian's feet, a few weeks ago. Carefully, I bandaged the wounds, conscious, even now, of the beauty of his body. When I was done, I just sat by him, stroking his hair, watching him breathing again. I felt like I'd never get enough of the sight of his chest rising and falling.

"OK," Eddie said, after we'd made yet another sharp turn at an unsafe speed. We were now driving along an awful, bumpy dirt road. "We're going to change cars in a minute. I haven't seen anyone in at least ten minutes, and I doubt we were followed, but to be on the safe side, we should try to be back on the road again as soon as possible."

"What?" I asked, incredulous. "We can't change cars. We really can't move Adrian so soon."

"I know it's not ideal, but we really have to," Eddie said. The car continued to bump along the rocky, dusty track, and the front windshield started to turn faintly pink from the dust. "Cameras probably show us going in and out of that office park," he said. "They'll be looking for a white Toyota. We can't risk it."

I leaned down over Adrian, trying to steady him as the car jostled all three of us. "How the heck are we going to find a car out here?"

"It's OK," Eddie interjected. "We have something all ready." We were coming around another bend to a sort of grassy spot. It looked generally unused and completely empty – except for the brand new, dark green Land Rover.

"Whoa," I said. It was _gorgeous_. This year's model, fully tricked out. It made Caliban look a little lame, to be honest.

"Yeah," Eddie said. "We stole it last night. Or this morning, whatever."

"So that was your last minute errand?" I said.

"Figured it'd be useful," Eddie said, as we pulled up alongside the Land Rover. "We were right."

"What if someone reported it missing?" I asked.

"We stole some plates from a different car," Eddie said, as he cut the ignition and put on the emergency brake. "And then Adrian charmed them with spirit so that you really can't _read_ them. He bitched about it the whole time, too. 'This isn't silver,' wanh wanh wanh." Eddie smiled at the memory as he started to get out of the car. "Whatever, he got it done. I've got to hand it to the guy."

We got out of the car and carefully brought Adrian over to the Land Rover, which Eddie unlocked with an actual key. I had a feeling that Adrian had had a lot to do with the theft of this vehicle. I told Eddie to start up the car and turn on the heat so that we could keep Adrian warm, and Eddie did so. He even activated the seat-warmer in the back.

"I have to transfer our bags," Eddie said, once Adrian was settled. "You can stay with Adrian..."

"We have to tend to your wounds first," I said, looking at him. The left side of his waist was covered in blood. "For heaven's sake, you were shot too, Eddie. Dhampir or not, you're still..." I was about to say, "You're still only human." I smiled at my near-gaffe. "You're still mortal," I said. "Take off your shirt."

"Hey," Eddie said, with the ghost of a smile. "Your boyfriend is right there. He might see us."

"Shut up," I said, smiling too, and he obediently took off the shirt. I sucked in my breath in shock. There was a huge bleeding hole in his left external oblique muscle.

"It's OK," he said, seeing the look on my face. "It's a clean hit. Went right through me."

"Holy crap," I said. "How are you not... passed out right now?"

"I'm a dhampir," he said.

"Sure, that explains it," I said, gesturing for him to lean back against the bumper of the Land Rover. I dug into my pocket, where I had put the container of wound preparation lotion, and held it out to him. "Put some of this stuff on the wounds. And um, hold on..." I ran over to the Toyota and grabbed the gauze, medical tape, and scissors from my kit, then ran back over and handed them to Eddie. "Cut off some lengths of each," I said. "I'll dress the wound for you in a minute. But first I have to do something."

Eddie repressed a smile. "OK, boss lady," he said, and began doing as he had been told.

I quickly checked on Adrian again – still breathing, still unconscious – then I ran back to the Toyota. There was blood _everywhere_. The last thing I needed was for the human police to find a blood-covered car abandoned in the woods. If alchemists caught wind of it, there'd be hell to pay. Getting my alchemist kit, I quickly mixed up some blood removal compound and spritzed it all over the bloodstained areas. I felt satisfied watching the blood begin to disappear. Not even CSI operatives equipped with Luminol could find anything now.

By the time I was done, I found myself laughing. Here I was, playing the role of the good alchemist, mere moments after I had used magic to save the life of my Moroi boyfriend. It was all more than a little weird.

I checked on Adrian again, then went back over to Eddie, who had been watching this entire process with interest. I explained what I had done, and Eddie nodded in approval. "That was really smart of you, Syd," he said. "Not that I'd expect any less from you." He held up the gauze and tape that he had cut into neat strips. "All ready to go."

"Excellently done, sir," I said. I took the wound preparation lotion from him and dabbed a little bit more on the front of the bullet hole, then began the applying the layers of gauze and tape. I did the same thing on the exit wound on his back, and then ruffled his hair. "I guess you're fit for duty, soldier," I said with a smile.

"You're in a good mood," Eddie noted, one eyebrow raised.

"I _am_," I said. "I'm happy to be free. And I'm happy you're alive." I gave him a kiss on the cheek, to his evident surprise. "I'm happy I'm alive," I added. "And I'm so, so, so, happy that Adrian's alive." I took a deep breath, stretched my arms out to each side, and began spinning in a circle, my head tilted back so I could see the sky.

"Sydney, what did you do back there, in the car?" Eddie asked, a little hesitantly.

"What do you mean?" I asked, still spinning.

"How did you save Adrian? You said his heart stopped beating, and that you used his own power to heal him? But how did you do that, exactly?"

"I dunno," I said, dreamily, and then forced myself to come to a halt. "So," I added, in a more professional tone. "We need to move supplies, you said?"

"Yeah, the bags in the trunk," Eddie said.

"I'll get them. You need to relax a moment. You can stay with Adrian."

"I'm fine," he said. "You can stay with Adrian. You could probably use a rest yourself."

"OK, OK," I said. "Me, woman! Me play nurse. You, _man_! Lift heavy things! Bleed every place!"

Eddie twisted side to side, then bent back and forth experimentally. "Actually, I think I'm not bleeding anymore," he said. "Whatever was in that stuff you gave me, it's amazing. The pain is completely gone. It's like magic."

"It's alchemist _technology_," I said, still perversely defensive. My eyes strayed down to the license plate of the Land Rover. For a moment, I felt as if I were still spinning. The letters and numbers seemed to change even as I watched them. "Wow," I said. "Adrian really did a good job on this license plate. This is amazing."

"Don't tell him I said so, but I'm impressed with the guy," Eddie said. "Especially now. That was a guardian-like maneuver, taking the bullet for you."

"I kind of wish he hadn't," I said, feeling some of my happiness leaving me. "He could have healed me much more easily than I could... do whatever I did."

Eddie let out a bark of a laugh. "No way," he said. "Didn't you see what happened? The bullet was going straight for your brain. If Adrian hadn't put his shoulder in the way, you'd have a two inch slug of lead in your brain, and then not even Adrian could have helped you."

"How do you know where the bullet was heading?"

"I saw it," Eddie said, as if confused by the question. "Didn't you?"

"It all happened so fast," I said.

"Oh," said Eddie. "You know, sometimes I forget you're just human."

I laughed. "Sometimes I forget you're _not_ human."

Eddie smiled. "Thanks, I guess. Anyway, let me go get the stuff so we can get out of here. You go check on Adrian."

The backseat of the Land Rover was big enough to fit Adrian and me both comfortably, and when I got in the back, I maneuvered myself around so that I could rest Adrian's head in my lap. He opened his eyes for a few seconds, smiled at me, and closed his eyes again.

Meanwhile, Eddie moved several backpacks from the Toyota to the Land Rover before he closed the trunks of both cars. Then he got into the driver's seat of the Land Rover, placing a red backpack and a plastic grocery bag next to him on the passenger seat. He leaned back and asked, "How's he doing?"

"He's going to be OK, I think," I said. "He probably just has to rest and finish healing. But the wounds are clean, and I got the bullets out, and... he's healing."

Eddie gave me steady look. "Love is stronger than death," he said, watching me.

"Yeah," I said, blushing a little. "As it turns out."

"Good to know," Eddie said. He put the key in the ignition and started up the car. For a split-second, I thought about asking to drive, but I didn't want to leave Adrian. "So," I said. "Where are we going?"

"I have a place picked out," Eddie said, as he began to back the Land Rover out of the makeshift parking spot. "It's about a three or four hour drive away."

"That's not so bad," I said. "What is it, a motel in a small town or something?"

"No, it's just a place that we can rest for a while," Eddie said, as he executed a three-point-turn. I waited, but he didn't volunteer any other details.

"Okayyyy," I said. I didn't feel like dragging the information out of him.

"There's a slight problem, though," Eddie added.

"How slight?"

"It's sort of in the middle of nowhere," he said. "We're going to have to hike a few miles after we park the car."

"Oh," I said. "That presents certain challenges."

"I know," Eddie said, ruefully. "But we'll deal."

That seemed to be the end of the conversation for now, so I just went back to stroking Adrian's hair. After a short, rather bumpy ride down the dirt track, Eddie got us back onto the main road. He was driving at a much more normal speed now than he had been before, and we blending in with normal traffic. After we'd driven on the main road for a few minutes, Adrian perked up a bit, and he sat up and put his head on my shoulder.

"Any pain?" I asked, once he was settled.

"None," he whispered, and took my hand in his. His voice sounded rusty, as if he hadn't used it in years. We were both quiet for a few minutes. I stroked his hand with my thumb, and he gave me a contented smile. After a while he whispered, "Hey, Sydney?"

"Hmm?"

"Love you." He squeezed my hand.

"I love you, too," I said.

"So I _didn't_ dream it," he said.

"No," I said. With my free hand, I stroked his hair. "I'm sorry it took so long for me to say it. And it wasn't because, you know... the bullets. It was just... time to say it."

"Time to say _what_, exactly?" Adrian asked, all innocence.

"That I love you, you idiot," I said, and kissed his forehead. "Don't tease me about this."

Eddie let out an amused snort. "Since you're awake, Adrian," he called back to us, "why don't you and Sydney get your disguises on, just in case?"

"Disguises?" I said, just as Adrian said, "Just in case of what?"

"You never know if there are cameras watching the road, or who's looking into what car," Eddie said, and passed the large red backpack back to me. "There's more clothes and stuff in the other packs in the trunk, but this bag has a few essentials," he said. "The most important thing to find now is the rings – they're in a Ziploc baggie."

I began digging through the bag, slightly hampered by the tall Moroi leaning his head on my shoulder. "Rings?" I said.

Adrian cleared his throat to explain, but Eddie spoke up. "Adrian charmed them to make us look different when we wear them," he said. "People seeing us won't recognize us, unless they know us really well, and even then, it'll take a few moments."

"Rose did that trick, didn't she?" I asked, removing a large pair of designer sunglasses from the bag. "That's how she got in to see me, around the time of the Queen's assassination. She had a silver bracelet on when she came in..."

"Yeah, we used the trick before," Eddie said. "A few times, actually."

"It was a good trick," Adrian put in. "I thought we'd reuse it."

I tried the sunglasses on and checked my reflection in the rear view mirror. They were huge, and I thought they sort of made me look like a giant bug. I wasn't sure if I could carry the look off, but Adrian gave me an amused thumbs up. I stuck them on my head like a headband. "Was it your idea to make the rings?" I asked him.

Adrian nodded with a little show of pride. "I made them back Reno," he whispered. "It was something to do, you know? Something to help."

"It was a really good idea," I said, and kissed his cheek.

"Course it was," he said, and I smiled.

Next out of the backpack was a beautiful open-weave cardigan, the exact shade of red wine. It was made from a silk-cashmere blend and it was soft, silky, and light. Even though it was really warm in the car, I wanted to try it on anyway, and I awkwardly slid it around my shoulders.

"Do you like it?" Adrian asked, in his rusty tired voice. "I picked it out for you."

"It's beautiful," I said in a hushed voice, running my fingers over the soft fabric. I never would have picked something like it out for myself, but once I had it on, I loved it.

"Got it for you in Reno, with my casino winnings," he murmured. "You always look so cold lately."

I kissed his cheek again. I _had_ been cold a lot lately, but I was surprised that he had noticed. "I won't have to borrow your sweaters as often now," I said as I wriggled out off the cardigan reluctantly.

"Borrow whatever you want," Adrian whispered, and caught my eye with a wicked smile. "What's mine is yours." Somehow, even in his injured state, Adrian had made the trite phrase into a sexual come-on. How did he _do_ that?

I went back to digging through the bag,. Next I found a few things that were clearly for Adrian – a hat and sunglasses, some sunscreen, and a light-weight long-sleeved white shirt that would help protect him from any sun we encountered. I figured he'd attract less attention if he were fully dressed, so I helped him into the shirt. He insisted on buttoning it himself, so I let him, though I would have enjoyed doing it for him.

At the very bottom of the bag, I found the Ziploc baggie Eddie had been talking about. It contained four silver rings, two with small stones and two without. Adrian grabbed the baggie from me and opened it.

"Hey Sydney," he whispered as he withdrew two of the rings. "You don't want to break up with me, do you?"

"Of course not," I said, not even bothering to put outrage into my voice. He knew that already.

"So you're saying you want to stick around for a while? With me, I mean?"

"Of course I do," I said.

Adrian took my hand. "What did you say?" he whispered.

"I said, 'I do'," I repeated, and without a word, Adrian slid a ring on the ring finger of my left hand. I was too surprised to react immediately, and when Adrian handed me another ring, a simple silver band, I took it automatically.

He held out his left hand to me, holding up his ring finger. I knew what he wanted me to do, and I couldn't think of a reason not to. "I do, too," Adrian said, as I slid the ring on his finger. Then he kissed me quickly and leaned his head back on my shoulder.

I looked down at the ring he'd put on my finger. It was actually really pretty – a silver band with green peridots surrounding a... That wasn't a _real_ diamond, was it?

"It's a cubic zirconium," Adrian whispered, as if reading my mind. "Give me a year or two. I'll get you a much nicer one then. Once I'm a mega-famous artist."

"Ok," I whispered. I tried to think of a joke or something clever to say, but I just couldn't. This quiet little moment between us felt strangely solemn for some reason. I avoided Adrian's eyes. I decided that we'd talk about it later, when Eddie wasn't around.

Adrian kissed my cheek. "Think I'll lie back down for a bit," he said in my ear. "That was quite enough excitement for one morning."

He slid his body down so he could put his head in my lap again, and I threw my new red cardigan over him like a blanket. Once he was asleep again, I examined the remaining two rings in the bag. One was another masculine ring, and I handed it up to Eddie, who took it without comment. The remaining ring in the bag featured a beautiful purple sapphire on a delicate silver band. I knew who it was for, and I felt a lump rise in my throat. With all the excitement of our escape, and of Adrian's miraculous healing, it was sometimes easy to forget, for a few moments, that we still didn't have Jill. I shook the thought away as I tucked the ring away in one of the backpack's front compartments. We'd save her. Somehow.


	51. II: Travel Tensions (part 1)

**Book II: These Three Remain_  
><em>**

**Chapter 17: Travel Tensions (part 1)**

With Adrian fast asleep, I decided to climb into the front seat, so I could talk to Eddie without disturbing Adrian's rest. It was a little awkward since we were in motion, but I managed it somehow, bringing the red backpack with me.

"So, what do the rings make us look like?" I asked Eddie in a low voice as I resumed digging through the bag, looking for other useful things.

"The main thing is that our rings make us look... normal," Eddie said. "You don't have a tattoo. Adrian doesn't look as pale, and he doesn't have fangs. Even another dhampir wouldn't spot me as a dhampir. And none of us look quite like ourselves. Adrian chose stock photos from the internet for inspiration. We just look like... normal people."

"Adrian doesn't look any different to _me_," I said. "He has his ring on." I found a baseball hat and a pair of sunglasses for Eddie to wear and handed them to him.

"We don't look different to each other," Eddie said, putting on the hat and glasses. "But to strangers, we'd look different."

"I remember when Rose came in to see me, when the Guardians were holding me captive at that hotel," I said. "At first I had no idea who she was, and then she took the bracelet off and suddenly, she was just Rose. It was weird."

"I bet," Eddie said, and closed his mouth.

After a few minutes, I couldn't stand it any longer. "Ok, Eddie," I said. "I've been patient. But it's time for you to explain things. Where exactly are we going? You still haven't told me."

"It's hard to explain," Eddie said. "I guess you could say that we're staying with friends-of-friends. Or maybe friends-of-friends-of-friends."

"Are you being inscrutable on purpose?" I asked.

"No," he said. "It's just... I don't really want to get our hopes up in case it doesn't work out. It's a place I heard of once. They'll probably take us in."

"Probably?" I said. "What if they don't?"

"Then we'll camp overnight somewhere," Eddie said. "We've got some camping supplies, and we can always sleep in the car. And I'll come up with another plan."

"_We'll_ come up with another plan," I corrected.

"True," Eddie said. I couldn't quite read his expression. I wondered if he just wasn't used to sharing planning with a _human_. Well, he'd have to get used to it.

"So," I added. "If I understand the situation, we're going to drive for four hours, hike for three miles, and then... maybe we'll just get turned away anyway?"

I wasn't able to keep the disdain out of my voice, and Eddie must have picked up on it, because his reply had a note of belligerence to it. "That's basically it," he said. "Sorry. It's not a perfect plan. Adrian and I didn't have a lot of time to come up with anything better. We were busy trying to figure out how to rescue you."

"I know," I said, a little more gently. "I appreciate that."

"The plan was to save you, then change cars and go straight to wherever Jill was being held. I had this other place as in mind as a Plan B in case that didn't work out, or if any of us was too injured to proceed."

"Maybe we don't need a special place," I said. "We could just stay at a motel or something."

"Do you really want to risk a motel?" Eddie asked. "You're wanted for treason, and the Guardians are out looking for you as we speak. They've got the alchemists in on it, too, and that means the human police are probably also involved. And they're not just looking for _you_. I'm sure they want to get their hands on Adrian and me, too, either for questioning or for aiding and abetting. And that's not even mentioning those crazies who have Jill."

"I know that normally, motels would be dangerous," I said. "You're talking to the girl who planned Rose's hideout when she was on the run, and believe me, it wasn't easy finding a place for her to hide. But wouldn't our disguises protect us? Isn't that the point of them?"

"They're not foolproof," Eddie said. "They don't work on anyone who actually knows us. Also, some people are more resistant to compulsion than others, and those people might notice something weird about us. And the charm will start to fade, sooner or later. Or maybe it won't work at all. We had no way to test the rings."

"OK, OK," I said. "I see your point. Fine. We need to go somewhere remote."

"Exactly," Eddie said. "And this place is about as remote as you can get."

"It's good you know about it," I said. The air in the car was pretty tense by now, and I wanted to smooth things over a little. "You did a great job planning everything so far, Eddie," I said, speaking sincerely. "Having the Land Rover ready to go was brilliant. And you were great in there, fighting off all those guys. Thanks so much for coming for me."

"What else would I do?" Eddie asked, a little mollified. "You're my... you know. My friend. And you did a great job, too. You barely needed me or Adrian."

"It was a team effort," I said.

"I guess so," Eddie said, and smiled. "Hey, will you please get me a sandwich and some water out of that bag?" he added. "Take something for yourself, if you want to. The whole-wheat sandwiches are the ones Adrian made for you."

"Sounds good," I said. I got us each a bottle of water and a sandwich and we began to chat and eat. Well, Eddie ate. I guzzled the water, then nibbled on the sandwich.

It was nice to talk more normally with Eddie. I gave my dhampir friend a brief recap of everything that had happened to me and everything I'd done, leaving out the details of the torture. Eddie had heard some of it from Adrian, but this was the first time he'd heard the story the whole way through. He was proud to hear how I had given a few of the H.Q. guys black eyes, and promised that he'd start to put more aggressive moves into our self-defense classes in the future. And he was as confused as Adrian and I had been about Angeline's role in the whole thing.

When I was done telling my side of the story, Eddie caught me up on everything that had been happening to him. He started by telling me about the false memories he'd been given, how he'd been so sure that he'd seen me give Jill to the enemy. Once the Guardians had swooped in, they had holed him up in a motel near the Guardian headquarters in Los Angeles. That was where he had been when Adrian found him in a dream and talked him out of his false memories.

"Adrian pointed out a few discrepancies, and once I saw those, I kept noticing more and more," Eddie said. "After that, the memory began to seem fake. It was like when you spot a plot hole in a movie, you know? It takes you out of it. Next thing you know, you're aware that you're just sitting in a theater watching overpaid actors pretending to have emotions."

"I know what you mean," I said. I was always spotting plot holes in movies. It was hard for me to enjoy most cinema, honestly. "What were some of the discrepancies?"

"For starters, there was a hole in my memory," Eddie said. "I couldn't remember how I'd gotten from one place on the Amberwood grounds to the parking lot. Also, Adrian pointed out that there was absolutely no reason for any of us to be in the parking lot at that hour. The anti-royalists wouldn't have needed _you_ to identify Jill – everyone knows what she looks like. So, really, the story was full of holes."

"So the whole 'Sydney is a traitor' thing wasn't a little bit of a clue?" I asked, a little peevishly.

"That was the biggest discrepancy of all, Sydney," Eddie said. "I should have said that one first. Even seeing it with my own eyes, I couldn't quite believe that you were... you know. The _enemy_."

"Um, thanks," I said, a little uncomfortable at Eddie's earnest reply, but pleased. I had been starting to wonder if Eddie really did see me as the enemy.

"Don't you like the sandwich?" Eddie asked me, noticing that I hadn't eaten much of it. "You're not still dieting, are you?"

"It's fine," I said. "I feel a little queasy I guess, after eating the weird food they gave me."

"Oh," Eddie said. "They fed you? For some reason I thought they were starving you."

"No, I got food," I said, vaguely, and stared down at my half-eaten half-sandwich. It was thin sliced lean turkey on whole wheat bread, no dressing. I pictured Adrian making the sandwich for me, and took a bite.

I was having a hard time thinking through the whole food thing. The point of my diet was to change my body into something more... sleek. Stream-lined. Graceful. _Perfect_. But this morning, back in the room at the H.Q., when I had seen myself from the outside, for a split-second my body had looked sickly and sad. That boney girl on the floor hadn't looked graceful or sleek. She had looked half-dead. For a moment, I had thought that I should stop dieting. But when I looked down at myself now, or caught my reflection in a window, I didn't see myself the same way. Now I saw a body that still needed work. I didn't know what to think.

The memory of that moment, when I had seen myself from the outside, was like the memory of seeing myself in a fun-house mirror. At some level, I knew I didn't really look like that, but at another level, I worried that maybe I really did. Still, even if I had no idea what to think of myself at the moment, I knew I had to eat _something_, and this sandwich was one of the healthiest things I had seen in days. And Adrian had made it for me with love. I took another bite.

"So..." I said, aware that I had let the silence drag on a little too long. "Did you ever figure out how they did it? The people who messed with your memories, I mean?"

"Not a clue," Eddie said. "Do you have a theory?"

"There's a few possibilities," I said. "Let me ask you something, so maybe we can rule something out."

"OK," he said.

"Did you have really dry eyes the next day?"

"No," he said, obviously surprised by the strange question.

"Or were you cold?" I asked. "Like, was your body a little below normal temperature?"

"I was a normal temperature," Eddie said. "Nothing weird like that happened. Why are you asking me this?"

"There's this alchemist compound," I said, opening my sandwich and removing the turkey. "I call it Gullinol. We use it to help convince eye-witnesses that they didn't see what they thought they saw. Mostly, that means convincing them that the very pale person they saw, the one with the red-ringed eyes, was really just your average, run of the mill drug addict." I ate the turkey, then opened my window a little.

"You guys can do that?" Eddie sounded a little outraged. "Change people's memories?"

"It's one of our primary functions," I said. I began tearing the bread into little pieces and rolling the pieces into little balls. "Being convincing and professional only goes so far. If you slip a little Gullinol into the person's drink, and then tell him a reasonably plausible story, it's a one-two punch. The next day, the person will have sort of dry eyes, and his temperature will be about 98.2, but he'll have a much nicer memory." Every few moments, I tossed a little ball of bread out the window. I watched each one hit the ground. "The side-effects fade within 24 hours, during which time their new memories grow stronger and stronger. After that, the memories are pretty rock solid, as long as the story is plausible."

"Ugh," Eddie said. "I don't like that. It's sort of... Big-Brother-y to control people's minds like that."

I shrugged. "It's not ideal, but the alternative, that people know about Strigoi, is so much worse. Do you really want a bunch of humans slavishly following Strigoi around in the hopes of being turned? Doing their bidding, pulling up wards..."

"Of course not," he said. "I guess I know that it's necessary. I still don't like it."

"Look, these people _want_ to believe that they didn't see anything too abnormal. They'd much rather think that they saw a drug addict or something. We're making them more comfortable."

"It's still unethical," Eddie said.

I shrugged again, then rolled my window back up. "I don't use Gullinol for any other reason other than to keep Strigoi a secret," I said. "There's no other choice, and I don't see it as unethical. But I can imagine a variety of unethical uses for it."

"But you don't think they gave it to me?" Eddie asked.

"No, I don't think they did. For one thing, if you didn't notice any dry eye or low-temperature, it's pretty unlikely you consumed any Gullinol. For another, like I said, the memories solidify after about 24 hours. So once Adrian got to you, it would probably have been too late."

"Shit," Eddie said, wonderingly, and shook his head. "I know you alchemists are scared of Moroi and dhampirs, but maybe we should be scared of you."

"Maybe," I said. "Maybe not. Because if it wasn't Gullinol, that pretty much just leaves Moroi compulsion."

"That's what Adrian said he thought it was," Eddie said. "Wait, didn't you mention that the group had some sort of ties with the Keepers, those weird people Angeline grew up with?"

"Yeah," I said. "So one of the Keeper Moroi could have been the one to use compulsion on you."

Eddie shivered. "It's so weird," he said. Then he paused a moment to think. "If the H.Q. are working with the Keepers, then that might explain how Angeline got involved in all of this," he said. "I've been wondering about that. Maybe her parents or superiors ordered her to do what she did."

"It's possible," I said, slowly. "That would explain something I overheard Angeline say to Adrian back at the art show - that she had lots of problems and obligations that she couldn't get out of."

"It's hard to believe that Angeline would sell us out," Eddie said. "I mean, from what you're saying, she must have, even if maybe she's having some sort of second thoughts now. But it's still weird to think of her that way. She was never good friends with us, but I still thought of her as a sort of... junior Guardian. Dhampirs sort of have to stick together." He sighed. "It's just weird. First I learn that _you_ betrayed us, then I hear that Angeline–"

"What did you say?" I asked, interrupting him. "I _betrayed_ you?"

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know you didn't really betray us. I didn't mean to say it like that."

I studied him for a moment. His eyes were glued to the road. "Eddie?" I said, finally. "What happened to the fake memories they gave you?"

He didn't look at me. After a very long pause, he said, "They're still there. Only now they seem more like a movie I saw. And I can't remember what really happened. The old memories, the real ones, seem to be completely gone."

"So you don't know what really did happen, but you still have memories of me selling Jill out to a bunch of crazy extremists?"

"Technically, yes," Eddie said. "Sorry, Sydney. I wish I didn't. I know they're false memories, but they're still in there."

"Is that why you've been sort of weird to me all day?"

"It's not like that," Eddie said. He paused, changed lanes, then added, "Maybe a tiny bit. Sub-consciously. But I swear, Sydney, I know that you're on my side. I can ignore those memories like they're just a weird dream I had, or a bad movie I saw. Adrian says he's going to try to clean the old memories out, once we..." He trailed off. "I mean, that's what he said. As soon as he feels up to it, I guess. It's low priority right now. The most important thing is finding Jill."

"You're right," I said. "Well, we have to heal, too. Heal, and find Jill."

"We'll heal as fast as we can," Eddie said.

"We will," I said. "I promise. But, meanwhile, Eddie, you know you can trust me, right?"

"I know I can," Eddie said. "And I do trust, you, I swear." He patted my leg, then put his hand back on the wheel.

"OK," I said. "So, let's talk about Jill. Maybe if we put our heads together, we can figure something out."

After that, we listed every bit of information we knew, or could surmise, about Jill's abduction and current whereabouts, but it was a depressingly short list. I told Eddie about the H.Q.'s plan to "set Jill loose," but he didn't find that information comforting. To tell the truth, neither did I.

Our conversation began to wind down, and I turned around to check on Adrian. He looked OK, if a bit pale, I thought – and then I caught sight of something through the back window and froze. "Eddie," I said, urgently, as I turned around to face front again. "They're here."

"What?" Eddie said. Instantly, his whole posture and attitude changed. He was on alert now. "Who's here?"

"They're in the Jeep," I said. I felt frightened tears begin to prick at my eyes. How had they found us? "The one right behind us. It's the one they took me away in..."

"What Jeep?" Eddie said.

"Midnight blue," I said. My heart was already beating like a jackhammer in my chest, and my breath was coming in shallow gasps. "Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT8. Right behind us..."

"Sydney," Eddie said, gently. "Look again."

I looked back and this time I saw not Caliban, but a black Dodge SUV. Now that I looked at it, it looked nothing like Caliban. How had I gotten it wrong? "Sorry," I said, embarrassed. "I don't know what happened. I was so sure it was the Jeep..."

"S'ok," Eddie said. "It's an easy mistake to make."

"Not really," I said, in a weird, strained voice. "They're totally different cars." I couldn't quite catch my breath. What was wrong with me?

"Are you OK?" Eddie asked. He looked over at me quickly, probably not wanting to take his eyes off the road for too long.

"Fine," I said, but the strain in my voice gave me away.

"Can't you breathe?" Eddie asked, concerned.

"I can," I said, or rather, gasped.

"Let me pull over a second," Eddie said, and began changing lanes.

"No!" I said, as loudly as I could manage. "Don't! They'll catch us!"

"There's no one following us right now," Eddie said. "It'll be OK to stop for a minute." He changed lanes again.

"I'm fine," I gasped. "Really." I tried to breathe air in, but my lungs seemed blocked. I tried to cough, but there wasn't enough air in my lungs.

"Sydney," Eddie said, in a surprisingly gentle tone. "I'm going to stop."

I felt the car begin to decelerate, and tried to protest again, but each breath was so difficult.

"What's going on?" asked a rusty-sounding voice from the backseat.

"She's having a panic attack or something," Eddie said, as the car pulled to halt on the grassy shoulder.

"I'm not," I tried to say, but no words left my mouth.

"It'll be OK, sweetheart," Adrian said. "Eddie, can you bring her over to me?"

Eddie got out and ran around to my side, then helped me out of the front seat and into the back. Then he squatted down on the ground to be closer to my eye level. I continued to take short, pointless, gasping breaths. I was starting to feel lightheaded.

"Breathe slowly," he was saying. "Let all the air out before you try to take more in."

I heard Adrian moving behind me, and a moment later his hands were lightly stroking my back. "There's nothing to be afraid of, sweetheart," he said. "We're here. We'll protect you."

"Breathe out twice as long as you breathe in," Eddie said, patiently. "I'll count, ok? Breathe in for five, out for ten. Here we go. Breathe in: one, two, three..."

I tried to breathe along with Eddie's commands, but breathing out for so many seconds was difficult. I wanted to breathe _in_, not out. There didn't seem to be enough room in my lungs for all the air I wanted.

"You can do it," Adrian said, near my ear. "I'll do it too. We'll do it together." He started breathing in time to Eddie's count, and I gave him my hand to hold. I felt him stroking my palm with his thumb, also in time to Eddie's count.

After a minute or two, I started being able to breathe normally, and I asked Eddie if we could _please_ get back on the road. Eddie gave me a quick hug, then went back to the driver's seat. I crawled into the back seat with Adrian, acutely embarrassed about the whole thing.

"Feeling better, sweetheart?" he asked.

"Much," I said, stroking his face. "That was just... a leftover reaction to the Vigil."

I saw Adrian's eyes stray to the space right over my head. "You're still frightened," he said.

"Of course I am," I said, a little more brusquely than I meant to. "We're running for our lives."

"Hey, look at me," he said. I looked up and met his eyes. "You're fine. We'll be fine. There's nothing to be afraid of."

"I know we're fine right _now_," I said.

Adrian frowned a little, as if confused. "I said that there's nothing to be afraid of."

"I kind of disagree," I said.

Adrian looked more intently at me, then sighed. "I guess I'm out of juice, Sage."

It was my turn to frown in confusion. "What do you m–" Then I figured it out. He'd been trying to use compulsion to calm me down, but just hadn't been able to. "Don't do that," I snapped. "Don't manipulate me."

"I only wanted to help," he said, in a hurt tone.

"If I feel a certain way, I feel it," I said. "You don't get to decide what I feel."

"Even if it's an awful way to feel?" he said, his voice full of concern. "Do you really want to feel so frightened you can't breathe?"

"Just ask me first," I said, softening. "Ask me if I want help. If I say I do, then you can help me. Ok?"

"Ok," he said.

I wanted to change the subject. "Do you want a snack or anything? There are sandwiches and stuff."

"I'm kind of tired," he said, and began to lie back down. "Maybe later."

I realized how little strength he had, and how much he had used up trying to help me. "Thanks for helping me," I said. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. You should at least have some juice or something. Let me help you if you're tired." Hearing me, Eddie passed back a juice pack, and I stuck in the straw and gave it to Adrian to drink.

"I'm sorry I used compulsion on you," he said, and sipped at the juice.

"You mean, almost," I said. "You _almost_ used compulsion on me."

"Right," he said, nodding. "I'm sorry about that. I just get so worried about you sometimes. I only wanted to help you and I couldn't think of anything else to do."

"Well, you didn't _really_ use compulsion," I said. "So it's ok."

"Yeah," he said. "But I'm still sorry." Then he put his head on my shoulder and held my hand, still sipping slowly at the juice.

"Adrian?" I murmured, when I felt his head beginning to droop. "Before you go back to sleep, let me look at your wounds, ok?"

"Nurse Sage on the case," he whispered, and began unbuttoning his shirt.

"Let me," I said, and as my hands moved over the buttons, I was forcefully reminded of the night after the art show, when I had taken his tie off of him, then his jacket, before I had undone his shirt buttons... Adrian must have been remembering the same thing, because he caught my eye with a look that made me feel warm all over, then took one of my hands and brought it to his mouth. He kissed the back of my hand, still looking me in the eye. I tried to give him a quelling look. "Adrian!" I whispered. "You were shot! With a gun! _Twice_! Just a few hours ago!"

"And then you healed me, sweetheart," Adrian whispered hoarsely, and wagged his eyebrows. "Now I'm yours."

I shook my head, unable to quite get the smile off my face. I peeled the gauze off of one of his wounds, and we both looked down at it. It was still a little wet looking, and Adrian winced when I gently applied a little more healing compound, a reaction which suggested that there was still pain to be numbed. But there was very little blood on the gauze, and Adrian insisted that it didn't hurt. I put on new gauze and tape, and then I changed the gauze on the other wound with the same results. When I was done, Adrian gave me a winning smile.

"I was a good patient, wasn't I?" he said, in that hoarse whisper.

"Very good," I said.

"Do I get a lollipop?" He was stroking my hand with his thumb.

I leaned over and kissed him very gently on the lips. "There," I whispered, when I drew away.

"That was nice," he whispered. "But I got a better treat the night you bandaged my feet."

"A better treat?" I repeated in a whisper.

He gestured for me to lean closer, and when I did, he whispered something that made me blush down to my collarbones. "Shhh!" I said, moving around him so that I could be his personal pillow again. "We can't talk about that right now. You... need to rest."

"You're no fun," he said, with a broad smile. His eyes strayed to the area right over my head again, and then he nodded to himself. After that, he lay back down and fell back asleep almost immediately.

I looked down at him, watching his chest rise and fall. He talked a pretty good game, but he was still really hurt, I knew. I wondered how long it would take him to heal, and hoped that we would have enough blood to get him through it.

I tried not to worry, and focused on rebuttoning Adrian's shirt without waking him. As my fingers moved over his chest, I thought about how he hadn't changed a bit, even through all of this craziness. Stress, bullets, fear of death... It didn't matter. He was still funny, sexy, vibrant, and generous. He could still make me blush and giggle with nothing more than a kiss on the hand. And on top of that, he was willing to use up his last bit of strength to help me.

I stroked his hair again. That feeling was building up in me once more, that feeling of something expanding in my rib cage like a huge water balloon. It had been nearly painful for me in the past when I'd felt like that, like the emotions were just going to make me explode. Now it was easy to handle. I looked down at Adrian's sleeping face and whispered, "I love you." He was asleep, and didn't hear me. But I felt better having said it.


	52. II: Travel Tensions (part 2)

**Book II: These Three Remain  
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**Chapter 18: Travel Tensions (part 2) **

We drove for about four hours in all, the last hour along a dirt road that at times barely deserved to be called a road at all. By the time Eddie parked the car near the start of a narrow mountain path, we had already finished most of the sandwiches and drinks in the bag. Eddie and I unpacked the trunk while Adrian sat under a tree, sipped at a bottle of water, and protested that he was feeling completely fine after sleeping for so long. Soon we had a neat pile of stuff: three large backpacks and my alchemist kit. It looked like a mountain.

"We can start walking in a sec, but first I have to go take care of something," Eddie said, turning to get back into the car. "I'll be right back."

He turned to get back in the car, but I stopped him. "What are you taking care of, exactly?" I asked.

Eddie looked startled. "Oh," he said. "Well, I'm going to go hide the car."

"OK," I said, nodding. "I think that's a good idea. I'll wait with Adrian."

"OK," Eddie said, and gave me an appraising look. "Hold down the fort, partner," he added, with a smile.

"Can do, partner," I said, and Eddie got into the car. I sat down with Adrian under the tree while Eddie drove the car directly _into_ the forest. The sound of the car breaking branches off of trees and scratching its paints job on low shrubs startled a flock of birds from a tree, and they flew off, squawking indignantly.

"What was _that_ about?" Adrian asked, faintly, once Eddie was out of earshot.

"Eddie's getting used to sharing command with a human," I said.

"Guardians get trained to protect helpless Moroi like yours truly," Adrian said. "They never learn how to protect resourceful Alchemist hotties."

"You're not helpless," I said, with a little heat. "You're my _hero_."

"And you're my self-rescuing princess," he said. "I guess we're even."

I smiled and stroked his hair, a little embarrassed, as always, by the praise. "We should probably get ready for the hike," I said. "There's sunscreen in the bag." I knew the sunscreen wouldn't completely protect Adrian from the suns, but it would definitely help.

"If you do me, I'll do you," Adrian said, and winked.

I managed to get the sunscreen on his face, neck, and arms, even though he argued that other parts of his body needed more of my attention. I also managed to talk him into putting on the wide-brimmed hat, despite his dire predictions of hat hair. Then I let Adrian apply some sunscreen to my face and arms, since I was pretty pale myself. I had to explain that it was impossible for my chest or butt to get sunburned through my clothes, no matter how much Adrian insisted that it was a serious danger. Adrian admitted defeat genially, and then I sensed his mood shift.

"Sage," he murmured, as he wiped a little extra sunscreen from my ears. "To be brutally honest, I don't know if I can hike at the moment. I can do lying down-type activities. Movie marathon, a bit of Angry Birds... But hiking? Not so much." He gave me an amused look. "I don't even hike on days when I _haven't_ been shot twice."

"I know," I said. "But we'll figure something out."

"The crack team," Adrian whispered faintly.

"That's us," I said and tried to smile through my anxiety. Then we cuddled up together, waiting in comfortable silence.

Eddie came back to the clearing about twenty minutes later, a bit dirtier, but satisfied looking. "No one will find that car for a _long_ while," he said. "If ever."

"Such a shame," I said. "It's a gorgeous car."

Adrian leaned close to me. "Maybe when this is all over, we can rescue it," he said, in a low voice. "We can give it to someone who will love it and give it a good home."

"That would be better," I said. "No reason to waste it." Adrian laughed a little, and I helped him stand up.

"You guys ready to go?" Eddie asked.

"Ready enough," I said.

"Does it matter?" Adrian asked.

"Not really," Eddie said, with a rueful grin.

"We few, we happy few," Adrian said, under his breath. "We band of buggered." And we set off.

The path was beautiful, and if I'd been in the mood to appreciate nature, I guess I would have appreciated the heck out of this place. But I was thinking more about the health and well-being of my friends, not to mention myself, and that sucked some of the enjoyment out of it. The uphill sections were steep, and the downhill sections seemed even steeper. We had to duck under branches, step carefully over roots, and keep our footing on loose soil. Adrian put an arm around Eddie's shoulders, and Eddie supported a lot of Adrian's weight. Eddie and I carried all the bags, which was no easy feat.

Adrian's injuries kept us moving slowly. For every fifteen minutes we walked, we had to rest for about as long. Honestly, with all the gear and the steep terrain, I was almost as tired as Adrian every time we stopped to rest. Our system of hiking and resting worked pretty well for the first hour, but when Adrian's endurance ran out, we had to came up with a new plan. Eddie carried most of the bags along the path a ways, then came back for Adrian and me. Then Eddie carried Adrian, while I walked out in front again, watching out for any problems, such as loose rocks, and carrying the remainder of the bags. When we reached the spot Eddie left the bags, we all sat and rested for a while, and then Eddie set off with most of the bags again.

This meant that Eddie was walking every section of trail three times, but amazingly, he didn't seem to mind. "Compared to fighting with Strigoi, this is nothing," he laughed, when I asked him about it.

"Even with a huge bullet wound in your side?"

"Meh," Eddie said. "'Tis but a scratch. I've had worse."

It was clear to me that Eddie had shifted into Guardian mode now, and he was somehow beyond pain or exhaustion. I wondered how much of that was his training, how much of it was dhampir hardiness, and how much was just his Edison Castile determination.

Despite everything going on, the rest periods alone with Adrian, while Eddie went ahead with the bags, were... nice. Adrian was comparatively subdued, and he'd usually just sort of doze with his head in my lap. He wasn't complaining about anything, not the pain or the difficulties - nothing except for the indignity of being carried by Eddie. "It's not very manly to be carted around like this," he said, during one of our rests. "I hope you'll still find me sexy when all this is over, Sage."

"I think you're sexy right now," I said, which was true.

"Cool," he said. "Give me half a minute to rest, and then maybe we can get in a quickie before Eddie comes back."

"Sounds good," I whispered, and stroked his arm gently. "But maybe I should check on your wounds first."

"If you like, sweetheart," Adrian said. "I'm at your mercy, Nurse Sage."

I unbuttoned his shirt, then carefully removed the gauze over his wounds to check how he was healing. The wounds looked a lot better than they had even just a few hours ago. I applied more healing lotion on each, then carefully reapplied the gauze.

"How are you otherwise?" I asked him. "Does it hurt to breathe, or anything like that?"

"I'm fine," Adrian said. Something told me that he wasn't being truthful, and I studied his face carefully. "Alright, Sage," he said, noting my scrutiny. "Honestly? It doesn't specifically hurt to breathe, or anything like that, but kind of everything hurts. " He shrugged. "I guess my body's using all its resources to heal. I just feel... exhausted."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I just hope that this place is worth the trip. Eddie made a pretty good case for us needing an out-of-the-way place to hide."

"I buy it," Adrian said. "We have to keep you safe. Everyone and their mom seems to want to catch you right now."

For the first time, it hit me fully that the reason we had to go to such a far-off place was _me_. I was a _liability_ here. I felt deflated somehow. I had always thought of myself as an asset to any team.

"Sweetheart?" Adrian's voice startled me a little. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," I said, and my eyes strayed down to the long ugly scar on the inner aspect of my right arm. "Fine," I repeated.

He took my hand and gently pulled my arm towards him. "I can see that scar," he said. "Does it hurt?"

"No," I said. "You healed it so that it doesn't hurt."

"When I'm better," Adrian said, "I'll heal all your scars so that you won't be able to tell that they were there."

I wanted to say that I'd always be able to tell that they were there, no matter how well he healed them. But all I did was kiss him quickly on the lips. He gave me a smile that made _me_ smile, then I settled near him so that he could rest his head back on my shoulder. And a few minutes later, Eddie returned, ready to help Adrian through the next section of trail.

I don't know for sure how far we walked in total. Eddie said it was two or three miles. But I do know that it took us more than four hours, with the breaks. Just when I thought that I couldn't walk another step, we came around a bend, and I saw the house.

It was a small wooden A-frame house, two stories tall, set about with huge redwood trees. Though most of its exterior was painted brown, its roof and huge wraparound porch were painted every color of the rainbow. Adding to the vision were the flowers that grew everywhere near it – in window boxes and flower boxes, in flower beds to either side, and on bushes that shadowed the pathway to the door. It looked almost like something out of a fairy tale. I let out a sound that was half gasp, half sigh. "What is this place?" I asked.

"It's hard to explain," Eddie said, and knelt to put Adrian down under a tree off to one side of the path. I helped him settle the sleeping Moroi in the shade, just out of sight of the house, with one of the backpacks as a pillow. Then Eddie and I turned to look at the house again.

"It's... colorful," I said, lost for words. "How did you know it was here?"

"I heard about it through friends of friends," he said, in a low voice. "I made a mental note at the time because I thought it would be useful if I ever needed to take Jill somewhere to hide."

"You're never really off-duty, are you?" I asked, turning to look at him.

"Not for a second," Eddie said.

While Adrian continued to sleep, we both sat down in the shade, and Eddie began rearranging items in the backpacks so that one was significantly lighter than the rest. When he was finally satisfied, he closed all three packs and looked over at me.

"Sydney?" he said, quietly. "I need to apologize for something. Back at the... place, I shouldn't have insisted that we stay behind to try to find someone to interrogate about Jill. And then I shouldn't have kept trying to wake Wheldon up when he was... you know. Dead. I should have listened to you."

"It's ok," I said. "I understand. You weren't yourself."

He shook his head. "It's unacceptable," he said. "If I had just been focused on getting out of there from the word go, Adrian wouldn't have gotten shot. I just was so..." He trailed off.

"You were worried about Jill," I said.

"Yes," he said. "I still am."

"I'm worried about her too," I said. "But it's going to be OK. Adrian would have felt it if she were... you know. Not here anymore. We'll get her back."

"Only now Adrian has been shot, and I've been slowed down too," he said. "I made a bad call. Again. I swear, I feel like I can't do anything right these days."

"Eddie," I said. I moved over a little to sit closer to him. "I think everyone feels like that from time to time."

"I feel like that all the time," he said. "I feel like I can't trust my own judgment anymore. I got Jill killed once. Now I got Adrian killed, too. The only thing protecting the Moroi around me is magic and luck."

"First off, Adrian wasn't dead," I said.

"He wasn't breathing," Eddie said. "His heart had stopped."

"Brain death occurs later," I said. "He wasn't dead. And secondly, you've protected me plenty of times. You saved me, Adrian, and Jill from those Strigoi that time. And third, everything I know about self-defense, you taught me." Eddie looked down at the ground miserably. At a loss, I wrapped my arms around him in a tight hug. "Oh, Eddie," I said, suddenly overcome by affection for my friend. "You've literally carried Adrian three miles, over hill and dale, with a bullet wound in your side. You've walked nine miles total. Come on. Give yourself a bit of a pat on the back. You're pretty amazing."

He squeezed me back. "Thanks," he said, and we pulled apart.

"And I'm really sorry about how it turned out, back there with Wheldon," I added. "I mean, I'm not sorry he's dead, exactly, even if that makes me a bad Christian. But as your friend, and Jill's friend, I am extremely sorry that we couldn't get the information we needed out of him before he died. And I'm sorry if you ever thought that I didn't care about Jill."

Eddie gave me a wry smile. "I'm not at all sorry that that poor excuse for a human being is dead. And I don't know what makes someone a bad Christian, but you don't strike me as bad. I never was really that religious, you know? You might even say I'm an atheist." He stopped for a moment, as if choosing his words carefully. "I think life is about being good for the sake of goodness, not for the sake of arbitrary rules that have been set for you," he said. "And part of that is that we have a responsibility to each other, to make the world good right now. I feel like some people are just factory defective and don't belong here. Adrian told me what that guy did, and I have to say, any person who seemed to enjoy doing to you what that man did... Yeah, the world's better off without him. Other people need the food, oxygen, space, sunlight, everything, more than he does."

This was a long speech for Eddie, and it took me a little while to digest it. "That's..." I said, but I couldn't finish the sentence. That's unfair? Cruel? … Accurate? I just shook my head. "That's an interesting perspective," I finally said.

"In any case, I appreciate what you're trying to say, Sydney," Eddie said. "You don't owe me any apologies, for the record."

"Thanks," I said.

We sat there awkwardly for a moment, and then Eddie said, "Oh, come here," and hugged me again. I hugged him back, thinking about how different Eddie's hugs were than Adrian's. Eddie's hugs weren't that different from a wrestling grip, for starters. And he usually patted my back, a tiny bit roughly, the way an athlete will pat the back of a teammate. I wondered if he hugged Jill like that. Probably not, considering what had happened between them. But in any case, the last vestiges of the weirdness between us seemed to have finally dissipated.

When I went back over to Adrian, I found that he was still asleep. I looked over at Eddie, who nodded.

"Adrian," I murmured, and gently shook him awake. "Adrian, love, we're here. Do you think you can walk a little?"

"I'm fine," he said, but he didn't open his eyes. He took a few deep breaths, then sighed, "Oh, god, I'm tired, Sage." He reluctantly dragged himself into a sitting position. I gave him the last bottle of water and he sipped at it slowly.

While Adrian drank, I turned to face Eddie. "So," I said. "Do you want to explain to us now what this place is?" Adrian made an emphatic grunting sound over his straw, letting us know that he also wanted to hear the response to this question.

"Just follow my lead," Eddie said, breezily. "I got this."

"Eddie," I said. "Why do you think my supervisors taught me so many languages? It was so I could talk to people. Half my job is smoothing things over and convincing people of things. So if you just explain what this place is to me, when we go in, you can follow _my_ lead."

Eddie gave me a quizzical look for a second, then laughed. "Fine," he said. "You got me, partner. The trail we're on right now is called the Pacific Crest Trail. It goes from Mexico to Canada – and not in a straight line, either. There's a thing some people do, called through-hiking. They hike the whole trail, from start to finish, without stopping. I mean, they stop to rest, but they don't leave the trail. It takes about six months."

"This is... common?" I asked, awed by the idea.

"Not super common," Eddie said. "But people do it, yeah. And other people think it's... you know, cool. And worth supporting. So the people who live here let through-hikers rest here, if they come in via the friends of friends network."

"Wow," I said. "That's... amazing."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "It kind of is. And if we can convince them that we're just tired through-hikers, they might let us stay with them for a day or two. But they might decide that they don't like our 'vibe' or something, so we have to make a good impression. And we have to seem... normal. I mean, the ring will do a lot of that, but still, we can't act like people recovering from... from bullet-wounds."

"I'll rock out like a dhampir," Adrian said, smiling, then he turned to me and said with a wink, "You know I like dhampirs."

What was the wink for? _I_ wasn't a dhampir. Was he joking about Rose? That didn't seem likely. I shook the comment off and went to help him stand up, a process that somehow involved him squeezing my butt a lot more than was strictly necessary, which I really didn't mind.

Eddie gave each of us a backpack – Adrian got the lightest one, obviously. Then we walked the short distance to the house and up the porch stairs, Adrian leaning on my shoulders.

_One chance,_ I thought. We had one chance to make the kind of impression that could potentially keep us all warm and safe for a few days while Adrian and Eddie healed. The alternative was a tent and sleeping bags, and I wasn't sure how well any of us would heal or prepare to rescue Jill under those conditions. Eddie rang the doorbell and I crossed my fingers behind my back.


	53. II: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 1)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 19: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 1)  
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The door was answered by a girl in her early twenties with long straight purple hair, bright hazel eyes, and a flowing dress with a tight, lacy bodice and a long black velvet skirt. Around her neck hung a silver chain and a pendant with a five-pointed star in a circle, and long beaded earrings dangled from her ears. She smelled of patchouli and cinnamon. From her appearance, I expected her to speak and behave a little like Ms. Terwiliger, but when she spoke her voice was clear and calm. "Hi," she said, smiling. "Through-hikers?"

"Yes," I said, returning her smile.

"We're friends of Clark," Eddie added.

"Friends of Clark are always welcome at Chez Gothic Retreat," the girl said, but she didn't move aside to let us in. "I'm Maeve," she added. "What should I call you?"

I froze. Names! How could I have been so dumb as to not think of fake names? But Eddie jumped in by shaking Maeve's hand with apparent ease and calm. "I'm Mason," Eddie said. "This is my sister, Sara, and our friend, Aaron." I kept a pleasant expression on her face as we each shook hands with Maeve.

She had a surprisingly firm handshake, I thought. She peered at each one of us in turn like a teacher trying to decide who to call on for a really tough question. Then she looked at me. "Sara," she said. "Do you think I should let you guys stay with me?" She regarded me with a bright, open smile.

"I think you should do what you're comfortable with," I said, in my smoothest, most persuasive alchemist voice. "But it would mean a lot to us if we could stay with you. We really need rest – Aaron especially, because he's recovering from a bad case of food poisoning. And I can assure you that we would be polite and respectful to you and your home."

"Hmm," the girl said. "Well, okay, then. Drop your things there" – she gestured to a corner of the porch, and we happily put down our bags – "and let's sit down on the porch and talk and have some zucchini bread." With that, she gestured for us to follow her as she walked around to the back of the house via the wraparound porch. I walked arm in arm with Adrian, and Eddie walked right behind us, probably ready to catch Adrian if he passed out.

The house was built on a hill, with the front door at the top of the hill, so as we walked along the porch, we were getting further and further from the ground. Here and there along the porch were chairs, stacks of paperback books, and craft projects in various stages of completion. We also passed several flower-boxes in which bloomed several large, improbable purple roses.

"These roses are beautiful," I said, partially because it was true.

"I like lilies better," Adrian murmured to me, and I smiled at him.

"Aren't they wonderful?" Maeve said, responding to my comment. "As you can probably guess, purple is my favorite color."

"We have a good friend whose favorite color is purple," Eddie said. "She's um..." He trailed off.

"She's far away right now," I said.

"We miss her," Adrian said.

"Well, we'll have to toast her," Maeve said. "We can send out positive vibes."

I glanced back at Eddie and saw his stony expression. Eddie wasn't much of a believer in things like positive vibes, I knew. I tapped my mouth to nudge him into a smile. If Maeve believed in vibes, then right now, _we_ had to believe in vibes, too.

We rounded the corner and found ourselves on a huge deck that looked out over a yard and the beautiful mountain view beyond it. I stopped and stared. A set of stairs on the left side of the porch led to a path to a small greenhouse, which was just visible behind a stand of four or five fruit trees. In the middle of the yard was a small, well-tended vegetable garden. On the right, a small, brightly painted wooden shack, bordered by a wire fence, was patrolled by several chickens, who pecked at the dirt in the chicken version of happiness. Within the bounds of the fence, three large white ducks wallowed in what looked like a kiddie pool full of water. Nearby the "pond" was a huge trellis, grown all over with vines, and under the trellis was a worn wooden bench. Behind the vegetable garden, a comfortable looking hammock was stretched between two huge redwood trees, and there was an old fashioned tire-swing hanging from one of the trees a safe distance from the greenhouse. And curving along the edge of the yard was a shallow stream, maybe a few inches deep at most, and about three meters wide. There were several large wooden chairs sitting in the middle of the stream, apparently just waiting for people to come sit down and let the water cool their feet. I blinked a few times, then looked down at the scene again. I felt as if any second the Lost Boys would march from behind a tree, or a tornado would touch down and deposit Dorothy and Toto.

The porch was open to the sky in some sections, but Maeve encouraged us to sit down close to the house in an area sheltered by a large, brightly colored extension of the roof. We had our choice of an eclectic mix of chairs, including a lime green wooden rocking chair, a strange looking gray sofa, and a row of purple bar stools near what looked like a handmade wooden bar. There was also a table made out of a large old wooden spool that probably had once held electrical cable. Adrian and I sat down on the gray sofa near the table and I immediately realized that the sofa had started out its life as the backseat of a van. It even still had seat-belts attached to it. "What model of van is this seat from?" I asked.

"It's from an old E-Series," Maeve said, laughter in her voice. "You like it? One of our more recent acquisitions. That's the driver's seat," she added, pointing to another chair, which Eddie claimed at once. I'd have to talk to him about that, sooner or later. _I_ was the driver around here.

"I like it a lot," Adrian said, and I could tell he was trying to keep the exhaustion from his voice. "It's super comfortable," he added, as he leaned over and put his head on my shoulder. This meant that he had to bend a lot, since he was so much taller than me, but neither of us minded this.

"How are you feeling, Aaron?" Maeve asked, but Adrian didn't react, either because he had forgotten his fake name, or because he was sort of out of it.

"He's still a little under the weather," I said. "Right, _Aaron_?"

"Oh, yeah," he said. "Food poisoning." Then he added in a really low voice, just for my benefit, "Probably too much lead or something."

"Well, I'll get us a snack, but you probably won't want any, with your stomach so wonky," Maeve said. Would you like some mint tea instead?"

"Oh," Adrian said. "I can have a snack. I think I'm up to it, don't you, um, sweetheart?"

"I think a snack would be great," I said, "but don't trouble yourself, Maeve, really..."

"It's no trouble," she said. "I'll just be a minute. You guys can enjoy the view." Then she swept by us, leaving a faint trace of perfume in her wake, and went into the house through the back door.

"What do you think of this place?" Eddie asked us in a low voice as soon as she was out of earshot.

"It's almost too good to be true," I said. "What's the deal? Who's Clark and why are we supposedly his friends?"

"Clark is the last name of the guy who thought up the Pacific Crest Trail," Eddie said. "It's kind of like, code. 'Friends of Clark' are through-hikers."

"So we passed the first test," I said. "You knew the code word. Now comes the second test – convincing Maeve that we're trustworthy and... likeable."

"That's easy," Adrian said, sitting up again. "What's not to like about us? We're good looking and charming. I mean, we're not as good looking as we'd ordinarily be, with these rings on, but still. We're downright loveable, _I_ think."

"I think we're doing good so far," Eddie said. "But Sydney, whatever she gives us as a snack, just eat it, OK?"

"Of course," I said, as if he had asked me pass the salt or something. But inside, I felt my stomach tense, which was a shame, because I had been starting to relax. I could smell coffee brewing from the open window near the door to the house, and the view was so beautiful – redwoods, blue sky, hills, treetops – that I wished I had a camera. I could faintly hear the contented cluckings of the chickens and quacks of the ducks. It was almost perfect. Why did food ruin everything?

"It'll be fine," Adrian said, next to me. He kissed my cheek, then put his head back down on my shoulder.

"Thanks," I said, though I wasn't sure why. I took his hand and held it tight.

"So once this Maeve chick gives us the okay, how long are we going to stay here?" Adrian asked, very quietly, counting on Eddie's dhampir hearing to pick up on what he'd said.

"I'm thinking two days," Eddie said, almost as quietly. "We have to go find Jill. You guys just need a day or two to heal."

"Don't forget," I said. "You need some healing, too, Guardian, clean exit wound or no."

"I'm fine," Eddie said. "I need like 24 hours, max."

"I'm fine too," Adrian said. "Give me fifteen, twenty minutes, and I'll be good to go, too." Eddie and I laughed.

"At least put some more of the healing compound on your wound later," I said to Eddie. "It'll help."

"I'll be fine," Eddie said again. "I've got it under control."

I was about to press the point when Maeve came out with a tray that looked like it once been an old vinyl record album. She placed the tray on the spool-table and we all looked down at what she'd brought us. There were four thick slices of sweet smelling zucchini bread, as promised, and four mugs of coffee, as well as milk and sugar and stuff. The smell of the coffee awoke something akin to hunger in me. I had told myself that I'd never want coffee again after the Vigil, but I was reconsidering that pretty fast.

"This looks great," I said. "Thank you so much." I took one of the mugs of coffee and began sipping at it. I looked over at Adrian questioningly, and he nodded, so I took another mug and mixed in a some sugar and milk for him. He took the mug, tried a sip, then added another three spoonfuls of sugar while I watched in disbelief.

"My sister got us the coffee maker for Yule last year," Maeve said. "We try to do more with less, you know? But we love coffee." She smiled. "Bet you don't get a lot of hot coffee on the trail, right?"

"Not as much as we'd like," Eddie said, also taking a mug of coffee. Like me, he drank it black.

"How long have you guys been on the road?" Maeve asked.

"Not very long, actually," Eddie said. "We did the bottom third last year, but then I sprained my ankle like an idiot and we had to give up for the time being. We only got back out on the trail nine days ago, near Truckee."

"What was so idiotic about the way you sprained your ankle?" Maeve asked.

"Oh," Eddie said. "I guess spraining your ankle always seems idiotic, later on..."

"Hmmm," Maeve said. "That may be. But if so, it would seem unnecessary to say that you sprained your ankle like an idiot. It would be redundant." She smiled again.

"I guess so," Eddie said. He was munching on the zucchini bread now, and he looked at me significantly. I took a piece for myself and one for Adrian, and we rested them on napkins in our laps.

"Hmm," Maeve said. "So far, I know that Mason isn't really an idiot, and that Sara likes my roses. Aaron? Why don't you tell me something about yourself?"

Adrian paused to consider. "Well," he said. "I'm Aaron. I'm a Scorpio. I like long walks on the beach..."

I nudged him. "Come on, Aaron," I said. "Don't kid around."

"I'm not kidding," he said. "I actually do like long walks on the beach. Who doesn't? Wind in your hair, the sound of the waves, sand underfoot... it's great."

"I like long walks on the beach, too," Maeve said. "We try to make it over to the coast a few times a year. Sara? Mason? Long walks on the beach?"

"I'm cool with them," Eddie said.

"I've never actually taken a walk on the beach, of any length," I said, and immediately regretted it. I should have just lied and said that they were great. But my lifetime of alchemist training hadn't left a lot of time for beach vacations.

"That's too bad," Maeve said. "Next time I'm in a spell circle, I'll say a word on your behalf, asking for you to get to take a long walk on the beach. Unless you don't want me to?"

I wasn't sure what to make of the phrase "spell circle" but I also didn't want to upset her, so I just nodded and said "thank you."

"Anything else about yourself that you'd like to tell me?" Maeve asked Adrian.

"I like to paint," he said. "I recently quit smoking, but I still cheat now and then." He shrugged. "I prefer boxers to briefs, generally."

"Oh, God," Eddie said, and put his face in his hands. "I so didn't need to know that."

"Hey," Adrian said. "My boys like to be free and easy."

"Mason?" Maeve asked Eddie. "What about you? Boxers or briefs?"

"Briefs," Eddie said, his face still in his hands.

"Tighty-whiteys, I'll bet," Adrian said.

"Eww, I don't need to be hearing this about my brother," I said.

"I prefer thong underwear for myself," Maeve said. "Once you get past the feeling of perpeta-wedgie, it's quite freeing."

Adrian laughed and repeated the word "perpeta-wedgie" under his breath a few times.

I felt Maeve's eyes on me, so I said, "I don't really know what kind of underwear I wear."

"Cotton bikinis, usually," Adrian said. I turned to stare at him, and he shrugged. "You _do_," he said.

"Oh, this is fun," Maeve said. "I like you guys. Do you like the zucchini bread?"

I took as big a bite as I could make myself take, while Eddie, happy not to be talking about underwear anymore, enthused about it. Adrian said he wanted the recipe, and I believed that he was being serious. There was no reason to lie – the bread _was_ really good. I revised my estimate of the calories in it way up, and soothed myself by saying that this would be the majority of my lunch.

Maeve took the last slice of bread and began munching on it. "We get more zucchini than we know what to do with," she said between bites, and gestured to the greenhouse. "So we make tons of bread. I'm glad you like it, because it'll be a side-dish at dinner and most likely the major component of dessert and breakfast, as well." She looked over at me, and I hastily took another bite. "Don't worry," she said, smiling. "It's pretty healthy. I use a blend of regular, whole wheat, and almond flour, and sweeten it with applesauce."

"Oh," I said. "That's good to know. I um, try to avoid refined sugars."

"It's just practical," she said. "We got a bumper crop of apples last fall." She gestured to the fruit trees. "They bloomed last week," she said. "It's a shame you weren't here then. The blossoms smell _heavenly_."

Adrian put his head down on my shoulder again. "Sounds nice," he said, and stifled a yawn.

"We have a few kinds," she said. "We don't know what kind they are because we stole them from an orchard near Pomona." She grinned. "Probably fucking Monsanto owns the patents. Anyway, they're really _good _apples_._ Sometimes we have to pollinate the blossoms with Q-tips because there aren't enough bees these days, but that's kind of fun. We cross-pollinate and come up with all sorts of weird cross-breeds. Mad science!"

It was hard not to smile at her friendly good humor. "What do you do with the apples, besides make applesauce?" I asked politely.

"We eat them, of course," Maeve said, laughing. "We also dry them and give them to our through-hikers. I'll give you some when you go, if you want."

"Does that mean we can stay here tonight?" Eddie asked.

"Well, yeah," Maeve said. "Of course. The sun is going to go down in four or five hours. I wasn't just going to send you down the switchbacks in the dark. That's a dangerous section of the trail to do in low light."

At that moment, a small snore escaped Adrian, and I looked down to see that he was out cold. Eddie looked stricken, but Maeve just laughed. "I guess he's ready for a nap. Should we all have a toast to your distant friend, first, though?"

"Definitely," Eddie said, and went to pick up his coffee mug.

"No, no," Maeve said. "You can't toast with _coffee_. One minute." And she got up and went back into the house.

"Aaron?" I said, nudging Adrian. "Wake up, love."

Adrian sat up, a touch of guilt on his face. "Oh, sweetheart," he said. "I'm sorry, I wasn't going to do that."

"It's fine," I whispered. "Maeve thought it was funny. It's just that we're going to have a toast to... Jailbait."

"Don't call her that," Eddie said, a little annoyed.

I felt anger rise in me, hot and strong and sudden, like a chemical reaction of some kind. "And what the hell _should_ we call her then?" I said quietly, through clenched teeth.

"What?" Eddie said. He seemed surprised.

"Hey," Adrian said, putting a hand on my arm. "Sweetheart, are you OK?"

"OK?" I repeated. "You should be asking Eddie that. He's the one who... who..."

"Yes, but your aura..." Adrian said, with such concern in his voice that I had to look at him. Immediately, I softened. Where had this anger come from?

"Hey, Chief," Eddie said. "I see your point. No offense meant."

I looked down over the rolling hills and took a few deep breaths. "OK," I said. "Sorry."

Just then, the door to the house opened, and Maeve came out with a bottle of wine and a wine glass. She deposited them on the table, then made hurried little sounds and ran back and forth once more to get three more glasses. I looked at the wine bottle. It had no label, and looked like it had been through a lot before it had ended up on this table.

"So this is our own pressing," Maeve said, happily, once she had everything together. "We call it 'Chatau Gothique.' " She was pouring as she spoke, and I watched as each of the four glasses filled with sparkling white wine. "We grow the grapes over there, on the trellis – see?"

"I noticed that," I said. "It's so pretty. Everything here is." I took a few steadying breaths, trying to purge my system of the strange anger.

"The trellis is a made out of an upcycled chain link fence," Maeve explained. "We found it by the side of the road, near Monterrey." She finished pouring out the last glass, then handed out the glasses to us. "Oh," she added. "I should have asked. Are you of legal drinking age? I mean, in your souls?"

"Absolutely," Adrian said, and Eddie agreed.

"I don't drink too often," I said.

"Today can be an exception, if you want it to be," Maeve said. "This is pretty low-alcohol stuff, anyway. So, Mason, why don't you propose the toast to your purple loving friend? Let us wish her well."

We all held up our glasses and looked over at Eddie. The look on his face – a sort of controlled sadness – wiped away my vestiges of anger. How could I be angry with Eddie? What would I be going through if Adrian were being held somewhere against his will?

"To Emily," Eddie said. "The best person I know. I hope she knows that we... miss her."

"To Emily," Adrian said. "I miss you."

"To Emily," I said. "I miss you too."

"To Emily," Maeve said. "May the goddess protect her from harm."

We all clinked glasses, and I took a sip of the wine. I didn't want to jinx the good wishes for Jill, or look anti-social. The wine turned out to be delicious, tart and clean, and the bubbles tickled my nose a little. I took another sip. There was something about being here, drinking to Jill's safety, that made me feel a little bit more... safe, somehow, about consuming calories. Like maybe nothing bad would happen if I ate today.

We were all sitting back down when we heard a loud series of squawks. I looked over to the far edge of the porch, where a blue bird was now perched on a big metal birdbath. I recognized it as a Steller's jay – _Cyanocitta stelleri_ – by his black head topped by a feathered crest. I smiled. I liked Steller's jays. They were fun, sociable little birds.

"Oh," Maeve said, happily. "It's Zule! I haven't seen him in a few days. Hey, Zule, where ya' been, birdy-bird-bird?" Maeve spoke the last three words musically, as if she herself were a chirping bird, and Zule squawked again a few times in reply. "Are you here with news?" she asked the bird, and broke off a small piece of sweet bread and tossed it on the ground just inches from where we sat. The bird flew over and landed by the crumb, then picked it up in his mouth and looked at Maeve impudently, his head cocked to the side, his crest standing up on his head like a mohawk. "You never thank me," Maeve laughed, and the bird squawked a reply. I half expected the two of them to begin an animated conversation in bird-language.

"Is he your... pet?" I asked.

"No, just a friend," Maeve said. "We bonded over our shared love of peanuts. Didn't we, birdy-bird-bird?" To my surprise, Zule let out a chirp that sounded a lot like Maeve's half-sung _birdy-bird-bird_. "I named him Azul," Maeve said. "You know, like the Spanish word for blue? But it's too annoying to say the whole thing, so I made it just Zule. There are lots of jays around here, but I can tell it's him because of his one blue eyebrow."

As if sensing a cue, the bird flapped his wings a few times and flew straight up, then landed again on our table where we could all see him clearly. He did in fact have only one blue eyebrow – the area over his other eye was pure black. We could also see that one of his feet was curled up unnaturally. He'd been injured.

"Oh, Zuley," Maeve said, concerned. "What happened to your footy-foot?"

The bird cocked his little black head to the side and let out a sound exactly like a hawk's piercing cry, then began pecking at the remnants of our bread.

"He mimics what he feels like mimicking," Maeve explained. "As you can see, he does a great impression of a hawk. It terrifies the cat, which is hilarious. And actually, he sometimes mimics the cat, though not quite as well." She stood up to get a better look at the bird's injured foot, then shook her head. "He's not actually tame, all appearances to the contrary, so there isn't much I can do for him. I hope he heals. There are a lot of predators out there. Poor Zule. I'll get you some peanuts later, OK, birdy-bird-bird?" The bird responded with a mimicking chirp, then resumed pecking at the crumbs on the table.

Adrian's hand had gone limp in mine, and I realized that he was asleep again. Maeve must have noticed that, too, because she added, in a pleasant brisk voice, "Bet you guys would like to rest and shower and stuff before dinner, huh? You can get beds inside, 'cause there's no one else staying here at the moment. Shall I give you the tour?"

"We'd love that," Eddie said.

"Aaron?" I said to Adrian. "Want a tour of the place?"

"Excellent idea, Sage," Adrian said, sleepily. I looked up, but Maeve didn't seem to notice that Adrian hadn't called me Sara.

We all got to our feet, and we each picked up a few of the dishes from the table as we followed Maeve into the kitchen. It was larger than I would have guessed for a house of this size, but it was cozy, with copper pots hanging on the wall, faded white wooden shelves, and bright copper flooring. We put the dishes down in the sink and looked around. An old wooden table with claw feet sat in one corner, decorated with a jam jar full of blooming dandelions. The stove looked like it had come straight from 1950, and the refrigerator looked exactly like an old Coca-cola vending machine.

"It's an old Coca-cola vending machine," Maeve said, catching me looking at it. "See?" She opened the door, revealing racks that tilted slightly, alternately to the left and the right. "The bottles used to roll down each rack, one to the next, until they reached the bottom." She illustrated with her finger the zig-zag process the bottles used to take. "Someone was going to trash it, but it still works, and we figured, why not? We don't need it much except for leftovers and the eggs."

"Is this floor made out of... pennies?" Eddie asked, and we all looked down. Sure enough, what I had first thought of as copper flooring was actually just dozens of pennies, covered with a clear veneer of some kind.

"You'll think it's crazy," Maeve said, "but actual copper flooring would have cost a lot more. This was only about $150 worth of pennies."

We followed her into the next room, a living room furnished with dilapidated couches and huge bean-bag chairs. Several guitars were propped against the wall, and an ancient piano sat in state in a corner, with several old wine bottles serving as candle holders sitting on top of it. Many different shades of wax dripped down the bottles in colorful layers, testifying to their frequent use. There was a fireplace on one side of the room, and on the other, a ladder leaned against the wall, leading to a lofted area that looked down on the room.

"The place is a mess," Maeve said, as we passed through. "But if any of you play, feel free to use the guitar or piano. I'm pretty sure that at least the piano is in tune. The guitars, probably not, but feel free to try to tune them, if you like a challenge."

"Do you play?" I asked.

"A little," Maeve said. "It's more Tony. That's my boyfriend." She smiled proudly.

"Where is Tony at the moment?" Eddie asked.

"On a DJ-ing gig in Berlin," Maeve said. "He'll be back the day after tomorrow, I think. Maybe you'll meet him, if you're still here. Anyway, what I want to show you is, there's a bed up there, in the loft." She pointed. "It's not completely private, but there's only us in the house right now anyway. I was thinking maybe Mason would like it?"

Eddie smiled. "Like the ultimate top bunk," he said. He climbed up the ladder in seconds, then stretched out on the bed and looked down at us. "This is awesome, Maeve. Thanks so much." He scrambled back down again, and then, curious, I had to climb up, too. It was a cozy spot, tucked in under the slanting roof, but not so small that Eddie would be cramped. I was kind of jealous of him for getting this spot for his bed.

After I came back down, we all followed Maeve down a small hallway, past a few rooms, including a storage room, the bathroom, the room Maeve shared with Tony, and a room Maeve called "the office" – then we walked up a short set of stairs that led us to a sort of attic space. It was pretty small, not much bigger than the full-sized mattress that lay directly on the floor. The ceiling slanted dramatically to a point, as if we were in a big wooden teepee, and there were several large windows set into the roof.

"I was thinking maybe this could be for you two," Maeve said, gesturing to Adrian and me.

"It's fantastic," I said, then looked at the windows. "But Aaron is really sensitive to the sun..."

"Oh," Maeve said. "Easy." She showed me how a cloth that hung down from the middle of the room could be tied back to cover the windows. By the time we had drawn the curtain, Adrian had already laid down in the bed.

"This is the most comfortable bed I've ever been in," Adrian said. "Maeve, you are my new favorite person. After my sweetheart here, of course."

"Thank you," Maeve said, with a genuine smile. "I'm glad you like it. Normally, I don't offer it to through-hikers. It's just for personal friends. But you guys, A, don't stink, and B, seem like decent folks who really need some sleep. And privacy."

"Thank you, seriously," Eddie said. "This means so much to us."

I added my thanks to Eddie's, then sat down on the bed and began untying Adrian's shoes for him.

"I'll leave you guys to settle in," Maeve said. "I'll probably be out in the greenhouse or singing to the ducks. I'll leave some towels in the bathroom for you guys, in case you want a shower. Dinner will be in an hour or two, if you're interested."

Eddie and I immediately offered to help with the food, but Maeve declined, saying that we needed to rest, and that she'd call us when the food was ready. Once she was gone, Eddie said, "I'm going to go bring up your stuff, OK?"

I shrugged, but didn't try to talk him out of it, and Eddie disappeared down the stairs. Adrian was already asleep again, and once I had his shoes off, I leaned over to touch his forehead, as if he were sick with a cold or flu. He actually was a little cooler to the touch than normal, and I pulled one of the blankets over him. Then I lay down on my side next to him, on top of the covers, and put one arm over him. There was something hard and uncomfortable in my pocket, and I wanted to take a shower, but I was so tired. I closed my eyes...

"Wake up," Wheldon said from the stairway.

I rolled over and sat up, terrified, and hissed, "Get away from me!" But instead of Wheldon, I saw Eddie, wearing two backpacks and carrying my alchemist kit.

"Sorry," he said, clearly taken aback. "I just wanted to give you your stuff."

"Thanks," I said, my hand on my chest. "Sorry, I just... thought you were someone else."

"What's going on?" Adrian asked sleepily, sitting up. "Sweetheart, why are you frightened?"

"I'm not frightened," I said, then realized I couldn't exactly lie to a guy who could see auras. "I just had a bad dream. It's not important."

"Poor Sage," Adrian said, putting an arm around me. "I hate nightmares."

I kissed his cheek, then got up to take the bags from Eddie. "Thanks for getting these," I said. "I guess I was just... more tired than I'd thought."

"Not a problem," Eddie said. "So uh, what do you guys think about..." – he gestured around him – "_this_?"

"I think this is great," Adrian said. "I don't know what else to think. Sage?"

"Me too," I said, sitting back down. "Adrian, what do you think of Maeve's aura?"

Adrian thought for a moment, then said, "It's a bit like yours, Sage. Wide bands of green and blue and purple. More purple than yours has, which is only fitting, I guess." He paused to think, then added, "I like her. I think she's a cool girl. Plus, she makes good zucchini bread."

"Just your luck she has a boyfriend," I said, a little irritably.

Adrian gave me a weird look, then said, "You have nothing to worry about, Sage."

"I know that," I said, feeling a little dumb. Of course I had nothing to worry about. What was _wrong_ with me today?

Eddie spoke up. "So we'll stay here a day or two. Meanwhile, we'll try to do some research and find out anything we can about where Jill might be."

"Research?" I said. "How can we do research here?"

"There's internet," Eddie said. "Maeve apparently works online, and she said we can use her computer as long as she's not using it. So I'll do whatever I can to track down the H.Q. people. Adrian, focus on healing of course, but do you think you'll be able to contact Jill through a dream or anything?"

"He's tried," I interjected. "He tried and tried the day it happened..."

"I know that," Eddie said. "But it wouldn't hurt to try again. He couldn't get in touch with you at first, either."

"I'll try," Adrian said. "I'll try tonight."

We chatted a little longer, just comparing notes on our impressions of the crazy, amazing house and our equally interesting hostess. I put a little more healing compound on Eddie's bullet wounds – a process which Adrian watched very carefully – then Eddie went downstairs, saying he was going to walk around the premises looking for possible points of entry for Strigoi and other enemies.

Once Eddie was gone, I sat back down on the bed. Adrian took my hand and said, "So what was the nightmare about?"

"I don't even remember," I said, which was sort of true. I didn't even remember being asleep.

"You're better now, right?" Adrian said, lying down and gesturing for me to do the same.

"Yes," I said. I tried to lie down on my side, but the hard thing in my pocket was still digging into me, and I reached into my pocket to take it out. It turned out to be a pine cone, and I remembered putting it in my pocket back in the forest, when I'd gotten dressed after my shower. I put the pine-cone on the one small chair in the room, and Adrian and I both looked at it.

"Dream pine-cone?" Adrian asked, and I nodded. "We used to be worried about stuff like that," he said. "Now we have a few other things to worry about."

"A few," I agreed tartly, and we cuddled up like spoons. "How are you feeling?" I asked.

"Like someone shot me twice in the chest," Adrian said. "Don't know why..."

I smiled, then said, "If I didn't say so before, thank you."

"For...?"

"For saving my life."

"I thought _you_ saved _my_ life," he said. "Though I'm still not clear on that..."

"You saved my life first," I said. "You came to get me from that awful place. Then you protected me from those bullets. Then you brought Wheldon down."

"You don't get it, Sage," Adrian said. "I was just being selfish. I went and got you because I missed you. And I didn't really think about the bullets. I just didn't want you to get hurt."

"Eddie says..." I said, and paused. "Eddie says he thinks Wheldon was aiming for my head. If you hadn't saved me, the bullet would have gone right through my brain. I would have been dead instantly. Even you wouldn't have been able to bring me back from that."

Adrian squeezed my hand. "I don't know what to say, Sage. I didn't know that at the time. I just didn't want you to feel any more pain. I had told you that I would shield you from as much pain as I could. I didn't want that bullet going into you. That was all I had time to think about."

"Thank you," I said, tears stinging my eyes. "Thank you so much."

"We're even," Adrian said. "You've saved my life too, in a million different ways, including the literal way."

"Maybe we're even," I said. "But you have to let me say thank you anyway."

"Wait until I'm feeling better," he said. "Then _show_ me how grateful you are." He kissed my cheek. "And I'll show you right back," he added, in a lower voice.

"Someplace warm, and dark, and quiet," I said, remembering his promise.

"Exactly," Adrian said. I rolled over to face him, and he leaned down to kiss me. It was a soft kiss, but it still left me tingling.

Not wanting to tire him out so soon after his injury, I forced myself to pull away. "We should be careful," I said.

"I don't see how you can get pregnant from just kissing, Sage," he said. "But if you insist, we'll stop." I smiled, and then we cuddled back up together. "Let's have a nap," he added. "Unless you think that's too dangerous?"

"Probably not," I murmured. "Though I never know with you."

He kissed my neck, once, softly, and then a soft curtain of sleep descended over both of us.


	54. II: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 2)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 20: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 2)**

"Hello, friends!" called a friendly female voice. "Am I interrupting?"

I opened my eyes. The room was now almost completely dark, and it took me a few seconds to remember where I was. I could feel Adrian's warmth at my back and the pressure of his arm around my waist. I didn't want to think about anything but how comfortable I was, but I also didn't want to be rude, so I called back, "No, no, Maeve, come on up."

There was the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and then a moment later, Maeve's head popped up, followed by the rest of her. "I just came up to check on your two," she said, bending down to switch on a small lamp, which cast a warm yellow light over the room. "Mason's making the salad. He's a dear, isn't he, Sara? You're lucky to have such a great brother. Mine is kind of a douchebag."

I blinked a few times and sat up. Adrian stirred and rolled over onto his back. "Yeah, Mason is pretty great," I said, remembering who "Mason" and "Sara" were just in time.

"He's a prince among men," Adrian murmured sleepily. "Hi, Maby."

"Hi, Aaron," she said. "How're you feeling?"

"Fantastic," he said raggedly, and rubbed at his eyes.

"I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to help with dinner," I said. "I was just so tired..." I trailed off because Maeve was staring, open-mouthed, at the pine cone that I had left on the chair. "Oh, yeah, the pine cone," I said. "I probably picked it up in the forest." _Which_ forest I had picked it up in, I didn't mention.

"_Wow_," she breathed. "May I... hold it?" When I said she could, she picked up the pine cone as if it were a Faberge egg. "This is... a _special_ pine cone," she said, in an awed voice.

I was reminded of the moment when Ms. Terwiliger had said something similar about the pencil I had accidentally fixed in a dream. "I guess it is," I said, not sure what else to say. "Do you want it?"

"Oh, _may_ I have it? Really? Are you _sure_?"

"It's yours," I said. Adrian sat up and began digging his chin into my shoulder, playfully. "You're giving us a place to stay," I said. "It's the least I can do."

"Where did you _get_ it?" Maeve said, still awed. She was examining the pine cone from every angle, delicately, as if it were a living thing that might suddenly leap away from her.

"I just found it in the forest," I said, stroking Adrian's leg.

"It's _beautiful_," she said. "Wow. I _knew_ you guys were special. I'm going to go put it on the altar, if that's ok." She turned to go downstairs, then stopped and turned back to us. "Are you guys going to join me for dinner? I made enough for all four of us, I mean, if you're feeling up to eating, Aaron."

"I'm really feeling a lot better, Maby," Adrian said. "Thanks. Dinner sounds awesome."

"We'll both join you," I said, wiping some sleep dust from my eyes. "It's really nice of you to share your food with us."

"Wonderful!" Maeve enthused. "Take your time getting downstairs. I like talking to your brother, Sara. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm in love with my boyfriend, I'm going to marry him and everything, but your brother is a_dor_able. See you in a few minutes!" And she galloped back down the stairs.

"Wow," Adrian said, once she was out of earshot. "She's... something."

"She's... very perceptive," I said. "Did she say something about an altar?"

"Think so," Adrian said. "Also, I'm pretty sure that earlier on, she said something about singing to the ducks."

"I think you're right," I said.

"Well," said Adrian. "This is all very normal and boring. Are you ready to eat?"

"Sounds good," I said, though there were a thousand other, truer replies I could have made to that particular question. "And then later, are you still going to try to contact Jill?"

"That's the plan, Sage," he said, and kissed my cheek. "I'll have to keep the wine to one glass, I guess, but that's not such an awful idea in my current state."

I agreed, and added, "Go on downstairs without me – I'll be down in a minute, OK?"

Adrian hugged me tightly for a second, then went downstairs. When he was gone, I began digging through my alchemist kit, looking for one of the small bottles I'd stolen from the HQ supply cabinet. When I found it, I took a moment to smooth down my clothes, finger-comb my hair, and check my face in the reflection in the back of a spoon. It was as good as it was going to get, I thought, and went downstairs.

I found Eddie, Adrian, and Maeve in the kitchen. Eddie and Maeve were setting the old claw-foot table with a collection of comically mismatched silverware and plates. Adrian was already seated and was opening a bottle of wine. I tried to light the candles, but when I picked up the cigarette lighter, I found myself strangely afraid to run my fingers over the little wheels that created the spark. Adrian took the lighter from me and kissed my fingertips. "I'll light the candles, sweetheart," he said. "One thing I know how to do is use a lighter."

We all sat down and passed around the food: an enormous duck egg omelet, flavored with fresh herbs, and a big salad and some baked apples. "Most of it's home-grown," Maeve said. "Even the oregano. I can't imagine life without fresh herbs, can you?"

"No way," Adrian said, very seriously. "Fresh herbs are everything to me." I couldn't tell whether he was kidding or not, but Maeve seemed to accept his comment at face value.

"Can you even name a single herb?" Eddie asked, in mock challenge. "Other than oregano?"

"Well, there's sage," Adrian said, promptly. "Can _you_ name any herbs, Mason?"

"Rosemary," Eddie said, and then looked slightly stricken. But then all three of us started laughing. Maeve asked what was so funny, and Adrian told her that it was a personal joke.

"I like sage better than rosemary anyway," he added, for my benefit, and winked.

The food was all delicious. Duck eggs turned out to be much more flavorful than chicken eggs, and Maeve assured me earnestly that they were much healthier. I ate most of my portion – all I had to do was pick out the potatoes. It was just all so... healthy. It was amazing to think that almost everything I was eating had been grown here. It made it seem safer, somehow. That didn't make any logical sense, but these days, food was making less and less sense to me, so I decided to just go with it.

As we ate, Maeve told us about the house. Her boyfriend had begun building it before they met, and when she moved in, they started to make more ambitious improvements. They even added a solar panel to the roof. "We're trying to get off the grid, if we can, but right now we still hook into the power lines, via underground cables," Maeve explained. "We get internet access through a satellite modem, which is sort of annoying, but the best option available. I need to get online in order to work."

"What do you do?" I asked.

"I write term papers for over-privileged children," Maeve said, with a roll of her eyes. "High school, college, even grad school. I talk to them about it over instant messenger, and they pay me online. It's a stupid way to make a living, but I'm good at it, what can I say?"

I wondered idly if she had ever written any papers for Amberwood students.

After that, the subject changed back to the three of us. This, of course, was difficult, since we couldn't exactly tell tales about our non-existent life on the trail. Adrian, our usual MVP when it came to conversation, was subdued because of his injuries, and I had never been an expert at amusing anecdotes. So, when the conversation faltered a little, Eddie jumped in with a story about a skunk that had us all laughing. He made it sound as if he'd been with "Aaron" when it had happened, and Adrian played along admirably.

This was the first time in a long time that I had seen Eddie joke around, relax, and be part of the conversation rather than just a witness to it. The glimpses I got of a relaxed and comfortable Eddie made me wish that I had known him before his friend had died, before he had grown hardened and distant. Maybe it was just the wine loosening him up, I thought. Or maybe it was the atmosphere of this crazy but comfortable house.

When Eddie was done with his story, Adrian asked Maeve about her necklace – leave it to Adrian to hone in on something like that – and Maeve said that the star inside of the circle was called a pentacle. "Which is not the same thing as a pentagram," she explained. "The top point is pointing up. It's a symbol from my religion."

"Which is...?" Adrian asked, and forked more omelet into his mouth.

"Wiccan," she said.

"You're a witch?" I asked.

"Well, I don't know," Maeve said. "Maybe. It depends on who's asking and how they define 'witch.' After all, a spell is just a prayer with props."

I knew for a fact that this wasn't true, but I didn't let it show on my face. "So when you mentioned your altar before," I said, "that was in reference to your... Wiccan faith?"

"Yes," she said. "I put the pine cone right next to my athame – my sacred knife – and my statue of the goddess. I'm almost sorry I blessed the house yesterday, because if I'd waited until today, I could have incorporated the pine cone into the ritual, as a sort of... fifth element."

"You bless the house?" I asked. I was wondering about her sacred knife, but it didn't seem polite to ask about it.

"Oh, yes," Maeve said. "There are all sorts of dangers in the world, both human and... other. I do it at least once a week, you know. And I can't wait to use the pine cone in my next spell."

"What do you do to bless the house?" Eddie asked. He was in Guardian mode again.

"Hmm," Maeve said. "Well, I consider the four elements, and ask each one to grant its protection to the house, to keep us safe from harm, and to keep our spirits whole."

Maeve bent to serve herself more apples, and Eddie mouthed the word "ward?" to me while she wasn't looking. I shrugged, unsure. It was possible that Maeve's spell _did_ function as a ward against harm. I knew that Moroi wards were sanctified by invoking the four elements, as were their silver stakes. There was something about this place... it felt so nice to be here that it _might_ have been magic. Or maybe we were just happy to be together, safe and sound, in a pretty place with a nice person. There was a kind of "magic" to that, too.

As the meal wound down, Maeve brought the wine bottle near Adrian's glass to refill it, but he smiled and put his hand over the top of the glass to prevent her from doing so. He yawned, then said, "I'm loving all this, Maby, but I'm exhausted. Would you be offended if I went to bed early?"

"Of _course_ I won't be offended," Maeve said. "But you don't want to wait for dessert?"

"I have some important dreams to get to," Adrian said, and Maeve laughed, not knowing that it wasn't a joke at all. Adrian stood up and stretched his arms over his head, lengthening his entire body. When he did that, his shirt stretched upward and I had a glimpse of his abs and the hem of his boxers. I caught myself licking my lips, but I don't think anyone noticed. "Goodnight, sweetheart," he said to me, and bent down to give me a hug and a peck on the lips before exchanging good-nights with everyone else and leaving the room.

It hit me how completely normal this must seem to Maeve – a boyfriend kissing his girlfriend goodnight. But the feeling of being an acknowledged girlfriend kind of blew me away. I imagined the uproar that would follow if Adrian kissed me in front of almost anyone else either of us knew. I savored the moment, the unimaginable luxury of being openly in love.

Soon after Adrian left, we had some dessert – it was zucchini bread with carob chips, and I had half a slice – and then we cleaned up the kitchen. Eddie and Maeve were talking animatedly the entire time about science-fiction television shows, many of which I'd never even heard of. I enjoyed witnessing Eddie get so enthusiastic about something that wasn't related to the Guardians or Strigoi, and though I couldn't participate, I let the conversation wash over me like music.

When the kitchen was clean, we all moved out into the living room. Maeve lit a few candles and then sat down in bright pink beanbag chair. She somehow managed to look regal sitting on it, her velvet skirts arranged around her in a swirl. Eddie and I chose an overstuffed couch near her, and we all talked a little about the various objects in the room, most of which had been "rescued" or "upcycled" from other sources. The piano, Maeve explained, had been a payment for a DJ job at a local school, and had required some serious rehabbing.

"Play us something on it," Eddie said. "Let's hear how it sounds."

"Oh, I couldn't," Maeve said, blushing. "I'm terrible."

"It's OK, we're drunk," Eddie said, smiling. "We won't notice."

Strictly speaking, that wasn't true. Eddie had only had three small glasses of wine, which would probably not have much of an impact on a tall, muscular dhampir. As for me, I was only halfway through my second glass. But we smiled and wheedled and finally managed to coax Maeve into playing us a song. She sat down at the piano and began playing us something she had written herself, singing with a strong, clear soprano voice.

Eddie was watching Maeve perform, and Maeve was looking down at the piano keys. This, I realized, was my opportunity. I pulled the small jar from my pocket and carefully slipped a few drops of the compound into Eddie's wine glass. Then, when Maeve was done playing, I picked up my wine glass and said, "That was beautiful. Let me raise a toast to that." Eddie gave me a slightly surprised look, but had no choice but to join me. We both downed our wine and Maeve beamed in pleasure.

"That's so sweet," she said. "I'm glad you liked it, if you really did, and you weren't just being polite."

Eddie laughed. "My sister doesn't tend to sugar coat her opinions," he said. "Or anything else, for that matter. She's not a big fan of sugar."

"Hmm," said Maeve. She seemed to consider that statement for a moment, as if she were going to make a reply, but then simply got up to refill our glasses.

"Play something else," Eddie said, as she poured. "You're very good."

"If you insist," Maeve said, laughing, and in a moment launched into a song that I didn't know, but that Eddie recognized at once. Apparently, the song was from one of the sci-fi shows they both liked, and when she was done playing, they began talking about the show again.

For some reason, it bothered me that they were talking about this again. They knew that I didn't watch this show, or any science-fiction show. Why were they being so rude to me, deliberately leaving me out of the conversation? I held my tongue for a few minutes, and then finally spat out, "Do you guys mind? I don't watch this stupid show." I had spoken loudly, interrupting Eddie in the middle of a sentence. Both he and Maeve turned around to stare at me. "I mean, you've been talking about it for like, an hour," I said, sulkily. "Let's talk about something else."

Maeve looked at me with concern. "Are you OK?" she asked.

"I'm fine," I replied. Why was everyone always asking me that?

"It's like there's a shadow on you," she said.

"I just am sick of talking about this BGS show or whatever," I said.

"BSG," Eddie corrected. "But we don't have to talk about it. I'm sorry, I forgot you don't watch it." He yawned, covering his mouth politely.

"Yes," Maeve agreed. "I'm sure we can find something else to talk about. What kind of shows do you enjoy, Sara?"

I paused. I didn't really watch television. What was more, I was starting to feel strange about how petulant I was acting. "I like travel documentaries," I said.

"Oh, those are great," Maeve enthused. "I was watching one recently about the Greek islands. Have you ever been?"

"No," Eddie replied, at the same moment that I said, "I've been to Santorini." I realized, a moment after I'd spoken, that I'd never _really_ been to Santorini, that it had just been a spirit-dream.

"I'd love to go to Crete," Maeve said. "It looks so old, so... _real_."

"Definitely," I said. "Crete has some amazing archeological sites, and a lot of interesting Turkish and Venetian architecture."

"When did you go to Santorini?" Eddie asked me.

"Oh, you know, on one of those work trips I took..." I said, vaguely, then turned to Maeve. "Want to play us another song?" I asked her.

"I've tortured you enough," she answered, shaking her head, but once again, we managed to get her to play us another song.

While she played, I watched Eddie carefully and saw him blink once or twice a little too heavily. I smiled. The sleeping compound I had put in his wine was starting to work. It was a lot smaller of a dose than the one I'd given the guards back at the H.Q., so Eddie probably wouldn't even notice that he had been drugged, but sooner or later, he would find it nearly impossible to stay awake. That was exactly what I wanted. I knew Eddie well enough to know that he'd want to stay awake all night guarding us, but I also knew that staying awake would slow down his healing. The chances of Strigoi attacking tonight were tiny compared to the chances we'd need a completely healed Guardian sometime in the next few days. If Eddie knew I'd interfered with him, he'd be furious. But Eddie didn't always take good enough care of himself, and it was up to his friends to make sure that he got help when he needed it, whether he wanted it or not.

When Maeve was done playing, she asked both of us if we played guitar or piano, and to my absolute amazement, Eddie said that he played a little guitar. I covered up my surprise with my professional alchemist face.

"Do you want to play something?" Maeve asked, getting a guitar down from a hook on the wall. She held it out to Eddie, who took it from her.

"I think I remember one song," he said, tightening some of the strings and testing their sound against each other. "And I haven't played it since Mm – my friend died. He and I had sometimes joked about starting a band. He was going to learn drums. After he died, I didn't want to play any more."

"I'm sorry to hear that," said Maeve. "Why don't you play tonight, in his memory? We know you're out of practice and won't judge, right, Sara?"

"Right," I said, watching Eddie try a few hesitant chords.

He strummed a few notes, then plucked out a familiar bass line. "I can't believe I'm doing this," he said, sheepishly. "I'm not very good."

"Play," said Maeve, sipping at her wine. "We're drunk. It'll be great. Come on."

"OK," Eddie said, and once he had tuned the guitar to his satisfaction, began playing the song, which I soon recognized as "Stand By Me." As it turned out, Eddie actually had a kind of nice singing voice – a slightly scratchy but tuneful tenor. He also was pretty good at guitar for someone who hadn't played in years.

Maeve watched him, utterly rapt, as he played. When he was done, he kind of shrugged as we both clapped, and Maeve went to his side and kissed his cheek. "If I wasn't so in love with my boyfriend, and if you weren't so in love with your friend Emily, I would _so_ bang you," she said. Then she took the guitar from him and hung it back on the wall.

I choked a little on my wine, but recovered before anyone noticed.

"Um, thanks," Eddie said, coloring a little. "I um, don't remember saying that I was in love with Emily..."

Maeve laughed. "Yeah, you didn't say it, Mason," she said, settling back into the beanbag chair. "But I, you know, have a _brain stem_. So I figured it out. _Ooh!_" She sat up straighter, excited about something. "You should play that song for her when you see her again. She'll melt like butter in a pan. And if she doesn't, she's a moron."

Eddie colored a little more deeply, then rubbed his eyes sleepily. The compound was definitely starting to affect him. "You really think she'd like it?" he said.

"She'll _love_ it," Maeve said.

Eddie stared into space, smiling and blinking heavily. After a brief pause, he said, "I do really love her. So fracking much."

"Awww," said Maeve, pleased. "That's cute."

"She's so... sweet," he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "But she doesn't really know me."

"Whose fault is that?" Maeve asked, a moment before I could say more or less the same thing.

"Mine," Eddie said, miserably. "But I can't do anything about it. I have to stay away from her. For her own good. I have to protect her."

"Oh, bullshit," Maeve said. "When is it good to stop love in its course? Unless she doesn't feel that way about you... Sara, do you think Emily feels the same way about Mason as he does about her?"

"I think she would if he didn't keep running off and confusing her," I said. "I mean, what's not to love about Mason?"

"Nothing I can see," Maeve said. Then she squinted at him, as if she were having trouble focusing on his face, before she shook her head, shrugging a little to herself.

Eddie blinked again, his head starting to fall forward slightly, then jerked to attention again. "God," he said. "I'm so tired. Why am I so tired?"

"Because you've been walking for days?" Maeve offered, helpfully. "Why don't you just go to bed, honey?"

"I just want to... brush my teeth..." Eddie said, and stood up on uncertain legs. He downed the rest of his wine, then began rummaging through his bag, which he had left in the corner of the room. Once he found his toothbrush, he went off to the bathroom.

"Are _you_ tired?" Maeve asked me.

I opened my mouth to say that I was – but then I realized that really, I wasn't. I had slept for a few hours just before dinner, and I had dozed for some of the car ride. Besides, I wanted to leave Adrian alone to concentrate, so he could have a better chance of contacting Jill. "I think I could stay up another hour or so," I said.

"Well, great," she said. "But we can't really hang out in here, or we'll keep your brother awake." She gestured up to the sleeping loft with her head. "So let's go sit outside. There's a porch swing on the other side of the deck. Sound good?"

"Is it cold out?" I asked.

"Hmm," she said. "It would be for _you_, I'll bet. We can take some blankets."

We picked up some throw blankets from the couches and were getting ready to step outside when Eddie came stumbling back into the room. He hugged us each and mumbled a good night, then climbed the ladder to the little loft. For a moment I almost regretted giving him the sleeping compound as I watched his uncertain progress up the ladder, but he made it to the top safely. I think he was asleep before Maeve and I had even left the room.

Back out on the porch, I followed Maeve around the corner to where the swing was. We sat down and I wrapped myself in a blanket. The sky was bright with stars, and the air was full of the scents of the forest and the sound of insects.

"I don't usually share so much Chateau Gothique," Maeve said, as she refilled our glasses. "But I like you guys. You're weird. It's awesome."

"I'm glad you like us," I said. "We um, like you."

"Then it works out well," Maeve said, and we swung back and forth on the chair quietly. "I don't mean to pry," she said, after a moment, "but what really is wrong with Aaron? It doesn't feel like food poisoning, somehow. It's as if there's a hole in him, or something. Like a hole in his heart."

I tried not to react to her words. "To tell the truth," I said, "it wasn't food poisoning. But it's sort of personal. I guess I'll just say that he was hurt pretty badly not so long ago. Right now, what he really needs is to rest."

"OK," said Maeve. She seemed to accept my caginess with equanimity. "And you? What do you need?"

"Oh," I said. "Well, rest, I guess. I could really use a few nights of proper sleep."

"And?"

I paused. "I guess... I need freedom," I said. "I was in a very tight spot for a few days."

"Freedom, we _got_ here," Maeve said, and laughed. "It's abundant here. And what do you think your brother needs?"

"Mason?" I said. I sighed. "He needs to rest, too. He needs to believe in himself a little more. And he needs... He misses Emily."

"What is the deal between them?" she asked. "What does he mean, she's better off without him?"

"Who knows?" I said, vaguely. "I think it's just because she comes from a sort of... rich family. And um, we don't. So he thinks he's not good enough for her."

"Strange," Maeve said, shaking her head. "I'll never understand people if I live to be a hundred."

"Me either," I said, with enough emphasis to make Maeve laugh again. We raised a toast to the unfathomable nature of humankind, then sat back in the chair again, rocking back and forth. "Let me ask you something," I said. "What's the deal between _you_ and Mason?" I wasn't exactly angry at Eddie for flirting with Maeve, but I was sort of confused, since I knew how much he cared for Jill.

Maeve laughed again. "Haven't you ever just met someone who you liked?" she asked. "It isn't necessarily romantic or sexual or anything. Just someone you enjoy flirting with. Even though you're with someone and are committed to that, you just enjoy the moment."

"I don't know," I said. "Aaron's the first boyfriend I ever had."

"Really?" Maeve said. "Well, you'll have to just take it from me. Sometimes, I think you can forget how to flirt, either because you've been single too long, or together with someone too long. It's nice to practice it again."

"And you're... practicing? With Mason?"

"Yep," Maeve said, grinning. "And he's practicing with me. It's good for both of us. I get the feeling he's as out of practice at flirting as he is at playing guitar."

I thought about that for a minute. Maybe it _was_ good for Eddie to "practice" in a low-stakes environment. Maybe next time he saw Jill he could put those skills to use. And, I fervently hoped, that that time would be soon.

We were both quiet again for a little while, sipping the wine, and then Maeve asked me, "Where did you get that pretty necklace?" She was looking at the Murano glass heart that Adrian had given me.

I undid the clasp and held out the necklace to her, so she could examine it. "Aaron gave it to me," I said. "It's from Venice."

"Venice?" she said, as she took the necklace from my hand. "Wow," she added. "It's got a bit of a kick to it. Like the pine cone, sort of."

I had no idea why Maeve would be able to sense that there was anything special about either item. I just shrugged. "It's special to me because it's from Aaron," I said.

"Maybe that's what I'm sensing," she said. "The feeling behind the gift. But I just feel like it's from quite far away." Then her eyes fell on the gold cross I was still wearing. "And that?" she asked. "Where is that from?"

"I've had it since I was a child," I said.

"A symbol of faith," she said, her hand at the pentacle around her neck. "I understand." She gave me back my necklace, and I put it on again. "That's cool," she said. "You have faith and love represented. All you're missing is hope."

"'These three remain,'" I quoted. "'Faith, hope, and love.'"

"'And the greatest of these is love,'" Maeve finished. "Oh, First Corinthians is my _favorite_. 'If I speak in the tongues of men or of angels but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal.' It's so beautiful."

"I thought you were a Wiccan," I said. "I'm surprised you know the Bible."

"For one thing, I was raised Christian," she said. "For another, I respect all philosophies. I don't agree with all of them, but there's often wisdom to be found in ancient texts. I love how the writer of that passage sees love – like, it's the thing that makes us our best selves."

"Do you think that's true?" I asked.

"I think so," Maeve said. "If it's good love. Healthy love. I don't mean like, your boyfriend tells you that if you don't do x-y-z, he'll dump you. I mean, your love inspires you to do things that are good for you." She peered at me carefully in the low light. "Has love changed you?"

"So much," I said.

"Is it change for the better?"

I thought about the first night when Jill had been crying in our room, when I'd been unable to bring myself to hug her. I thought about my fear at just seeing Jill use her water magic at the mini-golf course. For me, love and friendship with Moroi and dhampirs meant reassessing long-held beliefs, and discarding the ones that did me no good. "I think it _is_ change for the better," I said. "But sometimes it's hard. If my father saw me now, he'd probably put me in a mental institution."

I had spoken without thinking through how crazy that would sound, but Maeve didn't ask me any uncomfortable questions. She just nodded. "My father is pretty controlling, too," she said. "I was never good enough for him. So I know how it is. And uh, Tony's relationship with his father is much, _much_ worse. So... I get it."

I didn't know what to say to that, so I just made a non-committal sort of noise, and we swung back and forth for a while. Then Maeve inhaled deeply and sighed. "Smell that?" she asked me. "I think rain is on its way. The ducks will be thrilled."

We talked a little about the ducks and chickens, and about how little food she and Tony needed to buy because of the supply of vegetables and eggs. It was really interesting to hear from someone so passionate about how she lived. After a while, though, I started to get cold, despite the blanket and my red cardigan, and Maeve and I went inside.


	55. II: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 3)

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 21: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 3)**

Back in the kitchen, we put down our wine glasses, and Maeve poured us each a glass of water. Then, saying she was a little hungry again, she opened a plastic container to reveal yet another loaf of zucchini bread. "I told you we have unlimited supplies of the stuff," she said, and grinned. "I'm going to have another slice. Why don't you have one, too?" She put the loaf on a cutting board and got a large serrated knife from a drawer.

"Oh, I've had so much of your food already," I said.

"Have as much as you want," she said. "God knows we can make more. You should see the amount of zucchini we've got out in the greenhouse."

"Let me help you clean up first," I said, and brought our wine glasses to the sink to rinse them.

"Oh, you don't have to," Maeve said. "You're obviously exhausted."

"It's the least I can do," I said.

"No, the least you can do is have some more zucchini bread, and then make a big deal out of how good it is," Maeve corrected, taking the glasses from my hand and beginning to wash them.

I acquiesced, and stepped over to counter where Maeve had left the zucchini bread. The smell wafting up from it was delicious, and I hesitated. I would have a miniscule slice, I decided, and then maybe do a few pushups before bed. I reached for the knife, but when I touched it, the handle was wet with something. I looked down to see that the entire knife was covered in bright red blood.

I shrieked and dropped the knife, then sank down into a chair by the table with my clean hand over my eyes and my bloody hand held out far from my body.

"What's wrong?" Maeve exclaimed. She was at my side in a second, taking my bloody hand in hers. Why would she want to touch that?

"That's blood..." I said. "It was on the... on the..."

"The what, honey?"

"The knife," I sputtered. "I don't know where it all came from. Am I bleeding again? I'm sorry, Maeve, I didn't mean to mess up your kitchen."

"Sara, open your eyes, honey," Maeve said. "Come on, it's OK."

I opened my eyes slowly. There was no blood on my hand, and when I looked at the cutting board, I saw there was no blood there either. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm just... really tired. I thought I saw..."

"Blood?" Maeve said. "Well, it's not impossible that one of us cut ourselves on that knife. We're all complete klutzes here. Maybe you're just picking up on some of the leftover energy." I nodded, staring into space blankly. My heart was beating fast and my mouth was dry. "But," she said, "I think you could use a hug, anyway, huh?"

Before I could answer, she was already hugging me, and I gave up and lay my head on her shoulder. "Is that the water running?" I asked a moment later.

"Yes," she said, laughing a little. She pulled away from me and went over to the sink to shut off the water. "I was just in a hurry."

I couldn't remember a time someone had been in so much of a hurry to help me that he or she had left the water running. Not even my parents.

"Is there anything you want to talk to me about?" Maeve asked, wrapping the knife in a dishtowel.

"No," I said. "But thank you."

She tucked the knife away in the freezer and shut the door emphatically. "There," she said, smiling at me. "Can't get us from in there. Now, are you sure you don't want to talk about it? I won't tell anyone." She got out a very dull and unthreatening knife from a drawer and began hacking at the bread with it. "If someone is hurting you, though, you should know that it's not your fault..."

Great. She thought I was in some sort of abusive relationship. "Oh, it's not like that," I said. "Mason's just as nice as you think he is, and Aaron is... he's the most wonderful person. Neither of them would hurt a hair on my head."

"I sensed that," she said. "Aaron has such a bright spirit, you know? Like a... like a band of silver. Even if he is kind of tired at the moment."

I tried not to react to her comment. From what I had heard, all spirit users had silver auras. Maeve's off-hand comments had a way of really hitting home. "That's one way to put it," I said.

"Well, then," Maeve said, setting a plate of sliced sweet bread on the table. "If there were anything wrong, I mean, hypothetically... You could talk to one of them about it, right?"

I looked down at the slice of zucchini bread she was handing me. It looked calorie laden, but there was no blood on it. "I could," I said. "I can talk to Aaron about anything."

"Good," Maeve said, as she went over to the fridge. She held the door open and said, over her shoulder, "Do you want some 'I Can't Believe It's Not Butter'? Personally, I _can_ believe it's not butter, but I don't mind. I sort of enjoy the fake taste of it."

"Ok," I said. "Thanks."

Maeve sat down at the table with the yellow plastic tub. She spread the margarine over a slice of bread and handed it to me with a smile. "Try that," she said. "It's so good."

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I asked.

She looked up at me in a little surprise, then shrugged. "The longer I live," she said, "the more I value the importance of kindness. You're obviously having a bad day."

"You have no idea," I said.

"Nope," she said, cheerfully. "The funny thing is, everyone you see is in the middle of his or her own story, you know? I'll never really know your story, and you'll never really know mine."

"How is your story going?" I asked her.

"It's great," she said. "I'm in love." Her smile was a little dreamy. "Tony and Maeve. I'd say it's like something out of _Romeo and Juliet_, but I hate that fucking play. Stupid kids kill themselves over love. I know it was a tragedy and everything, but still. It's dumb. They didn't even know each other."

"I agree completely," I said. I paused, then added, "A friend of mine says that he'd rather live for his beliefs than die for them."

"Your friend is a wise person," she said, then looked down at my uneaten slice of bread. "Go on, Sara," she said. "Eat. You're very, very thin. You should be adding butter to everything, not pulling the potatoes out of your omelet."

"What?" I said. "I'm not... I mean..."

"There's no way you'll be able to get to the end of the path you're on without fueling your body better," Maeve said. "Trust me. I know."

I started to protest, but it seemed futile. Maeve seemed to just... get it. "I'm not hungry," I whispered.

"Eat anyway," she said. "It's all safe. We make it here. It'll nourish you."

If I had been anywhere else, I never would have eaten that bread. But with the greenhouse just a few dozen feet away, and with Maeve's smiling face watching me, I felt like I could. I picked up the bread and took a bite. Just then, an enormous fluffy black cat came into the room and meowed loudly.

"That's Max," Maeve said. "Hello _sweeeeeeetie_," she cooed, and picked the huge cat up. "Are you allergic?" she asked me.

"No," I said.

Immediately, she placed the cat in my lap. He seemed rumpled and confused by the turn of events, but a moment later, he settled down to lay his big head on his big paws. He began purring so loudly I thought he'd wake Eddie up. "Um, hi, Max," I said. "Good cat."

"You need kitty time," Maeve said, decidedly. "That's probably why he came out of hiding. Right, Maxie? Right?"

The cat meowed again, and then lifted his head to gaze at me with enormous green eyes. "I like his eyes," I said, and stroked his head with two fingers, trying not to get cat hair on my zucchini bread.

"He doesn't like anything except warm laps and tuna," Maeve said happily. Then she launched into a few stories about Max's exploits over the years, including the time he had been found playing with a small knob that read "DO NOT REMOVE." "We never did figure out where he'd removed it from," Maeve laughed.

The warm weight of the purring beast in my lap, combined with the snack and Maeve's funny stories, soon had me feeling much better. After a while I said that I was ready for bed.

"It's past time," Maeve agreed. "Good night, sweetie." She hugged me goodnight and went off to bed, the cat trailing along behind her.

I wiped the crumbs off my lap and got up, then decided to take a quick shower before bed. When I was done, I got dressed again in the same dirty clothes and went upstairs as quietly as I could so as not to wake Adrian up.

Adrian was asleep, as far as I could tell, though I didn't know what it would look like if he were in a spirit dream with Jill. I slipped out of my shorts and lay down on the mattress next to him, and a moment later Adrian rolled over and pulled me closer, so that I was tucked away on his non-injured side.

I lay there and gazed out of the window at the moon. Adrian's presence was both calming and exciting, and I still felt the after-effects of the adrenaline that had coursed through my system when I had seen the "blood." I wasn't sure if I'd be able to fall asleep.

I did a few deep breathing exercises, trying to calm down and let my exhaustion bring me to sleep. But it was difficult to get comfortable. The floor was so hard, the carpet was so rough, and I was so cold. I pulled my towel over me, trying to get warm.

Then the fluorescent light flicked on and Wheldon walked in. I sat up, terror making my pulse spike.

"I thought you were dead," I gasped through dry lips. I looked down at myself. All my cuts had started bleeding again. I felt around under the carpet for where I had hidden the healing compound, but it was gone.

Wheldon turned around to show me the back of his head, which was covered in blood. "It'll take more than that to kill _me_, Miss Sage," he said. He held something up for me to see – the serrated knife from Maeve's kitchen. "Shall we try this out?" he asked, in that maddeningly pleasant voice of his. "I have a few more questions for you. Tell the truth and shame the devil."

"I've answered enough of your questions," I said, but somehow I was already tied to that awful table again. I struggled against my ropes.

"I have some questions, too," my father said, from a chair in the corner. "I want to ask her about her engagement to that dead Moroi. Is she trying to ensure her eternal damnation?"

"I'm not engaged," I said. "And he's not dead."

"Shot twice, once in the heart?" my father said. "Pretty sure he's dead, Sydney. And that ring speaks for itself. Don't know why you'd get engaged to a dead vampire. Well, you'll be going to hell. And probably pretty soon, by the looks of things. You can tell the devil to shame the truth."

I tried to reply, but couldn't make my mouth work.

"We could use this knife," Wheldon said, and then the knife changed in his hand to something strange and ornate, something that glowed pale green. "It's the sacred knife from the witch's altar. It'd be fitting, don't you think, Mr. Sage?"

"It sounds like a good idea," my father said.

"Yes," Wheldon said. "I wonder if I can slice out your soul with this thing." He loomed over me, holding up the knife. I felt terror take over completely. I couldn't even scream.

"Oh, _fuck_ _this_," said a familiar voice from behind Wheldon. The ex-alchemist dissipated, like a cloud of smoke hit by a gust of wind, and I could see who had spoken.

"Adrian," I whispered. "What are you doing here?"

"Rescuing you," he said, already moving towards me. He broke the ropes and scooped me up in his arms. Then he kicked open the door out of the room, carried me over the threshold, and deposited me on the other side of the door. We were standing not in the hallway of the H.Q. but on a porch overlooking a redwood forest.

"How did you find me?" I asked, confused.

"I'll always find you," he said, then pulled me closer, saying, "Come here, princess. Let me wake you up." Then he bent down and kissed me. I felt the pressure of his lips, the warmth of his body – but then everything around me dissolved, even Adrian.

I sat up in bed, my heart still beating hard. Adrian woke up a moment after me and sat up too, putting his arms around me.

"Sweetheart," he said in my ear. "It's OK. You're here with me. Everything is fine."

"What happened?" I asked. "I was bleeding..."

"Just a nightmare, sweetheart," Adrian said. "You're safe. You're not bleeding at all. See?" He held my arm up so I could see it, then squeezed me tight again. "I woke up a few minutes ago and was kind of, you know, watching you sleep. You're cute when you sleep. And then I saw your aura turn bright red and thought I'd intervene in your dream. I figured that if you could do that kind of dreamwalking, so could I. Kind of surprised that it worked, but I'm glad. That looked like a pretty awful dream."

"Thank you for getting me out," I whispered. And then I burst into tears.

"Let it out," Adrian said, still holding me tight. "You've been super brave. It's cool. I got you."

For a few minutes, all I could do was cry. I cried harder than I had cried when I was actually at the H.Q. I probably cried harder than I ever had cried in my whole life – these huge, wracking sobs that made my whole body shake. Adrian didn't tell me to stop crying, or anything like that. He just sort of stroked my hair until the sobs quieted down.

After a while, we lay back down, facing each other on our sides.

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" Adrian whispered, running his hand up and down my arm. "I'll be right here."

"I don't want to sleep ever again," I said.

"Scared of bad dreams?" he asked. "I can protect you from those..."

"Don't!" I said, too loudly. I blinked. "Sorry. I didn't mean to be harsh. I just meant that you shouldn't waste spirit energy on me."

"It wouldn't be wasting it," he said.

"It _would_ be a waste," I said. "A massive waste, waste, waste. Did you know that a great deal of energy is wasted every day? I mean, just think of all the inefficiencies. Old light-bulbs. Cars with their tires under-inflated. People who swing their arms too much when they run..."

"Sweetheart?" Adrian said, in a slightly puzzled voice. "You know I love your educational tangents, but this one is a little... unfocused."

"Sorry," I said, blinking. "I just meant... the energy... Don't waste spirit energy on me."

"I can always just wake you up," Adrian said. "If I see that you're frightened, I'll wake you up."

"I might as well not go back to sleep then," I said. "What's the point? If I sleep, sooner or later I'll get tired again and have to sleep more..."

Adrian ran a hand through my hair. "Sweetheart," he said. "You're not making a ton of sense. I think sleep is the best thing for you. You don't have to worry. I'll be right here."

I laughed. "And here I am, comforted by the presence of a Moroi. Do you know, the first night I was around Rose, on the train, I could barely even close my eyes. I was so scared to be near a dhampir." I closed my eyes tightly. Rose. Purple roses outside. Adrian preferred lilies. There were girls named Lily, too. I sat up and began looking around the room for places that flowers could be hiding.

"That was a long time ago," Adrian said, gently, and sat up too. "You know something?" he added. "The way you're talking now... This almost reminds me of..." He trailed off.

"What?" I asked, loudly, then put my hand over my mouth. "I'm sorry," I whispered. "My voice is like a bullet. It'll hurt you."

"I'm OK," Adrian said, gently. "But I think that you're not quite yourself..."

"There is no 'myself'," I said, tears returning to my eyes. "There are eight million Sydneys and all of them suck. All of them. They're all fat and useless and crazy. And all of them love you so much, and some of them are still so insecure that you'll leave us that we go crazy. Which is inevitable. I'm going to go crazy. And the alchemists will catch me again and this time it won't be some fake punks, it'll be the real deal, they'll go into my brain and steal the only part of me I want to keep..." I was crying again now, crying hard.

Adrian put a hand on my face. "Sydney," he whispered. "Look in my eyes."

"No," I whined. "Your eyes are too gorgeous. They make me crazy."

"So are yours," he said. "But I'm going to take the risk. Look at me."

Something about the way he said the words snapped me to attention. I looked him right in the eyes.

"Sweetheart," he said. "Sweet Sydney Sage. You saved my life, and now you're paying the price."

What? He wasn't making sense. I squirmed around, trying to break the lock he had on me through that emerald gaze.

Without breaking the eye contact, Adrian put one hand to my temple. "Work with me, sweetheart. I've never tried to do this before. You've done it dozens of times for me."

What was he doing? My Adrian. My love. I felt waves of warm and cold, felt something lift. He had taken something from me. It was something I didn't want.

"Ohh..." I said, my eyes wide now. He had released me from his hold, but I kept looking at him anyway. "Thank you," I whispered.

"It's the least I could do," he said. "I couldn't let you deal with that on your own. I know how awful spirit darkness is."

"I didn't know," I whispered. "I mean, I could see its affect on you, but... oh, gosh, Adrian. And you've been dealing with this for almost half of your life."

"Yeah," he said. "It's not fun. But it's not about me right now. Come here, sweetheart."

I lay my head on his uninjured side, and we looped our legs together. We were quiet for a few minutes, and Adrian stroked my hair. Finally, I looked up at him, and our eyes locked. Adrian smiled first, and then I did too. A moment later, we both started laughing a little, that nervous laughter that always follows drama. I felt so much better with the darkness gone, and was happy to be here in this cute attic with the guy I loved.

"Wow," I whispered. "That was weird."

"I know, right?" Adrian said. We were quiet again for another few minutes, and then Adrian spoke up again. "OK," he said. "Usually you're the one who figures this stuff out. But I think I got this one. Want me to give it a go?"

"Go ahead, Smarty-pants," I said.

"If you don't like my pants, I'll take them off," Adrian said, his voice dropping low. He took my hand in his and kissed it.

"Just give me the explanation, please," I said, in a business-like tone, though I couldn't hide my smile.

"First explanation, then pants," Adrian said. "Got it. OK. Here's my theory. You know how Sonya thought that you use my power to... uh, power, your... power?"

"OK..."

"Well," he said. "_That's_ what happened. In the car, I mean. When you healed me. You used _my_ power to heal me."

"Well, duh," I said, and Adrian laughed.

"Hey!" he said, in a mock-offended tone. "Be nice to me. I got shot a few hours ago, and here I thought I was figuring shit out."

"I _am_ being nice to you," I said, and kissed his cheek to prove it.

"But you already knew that?" he said.

"Yeah," I said. "I knew it even at the time. Your power went through me like..." I searched for an explanation. "Like a beam of light. Like... like the tingle from a kiss..."

"Poetic," said Adrian, but there was no mockery to his tone.

"It was like..." I said, and struggled for the right way to say it. I had known at the time, but now it was difficult to explain.

"Like an orgasm?" Adrian said, mischievously.

"Kind of," I said, my voice dropping to a whisper. "That seems like a sort of profane way to express it, though. At the time, it seemed so beautiful and pure."

"Are you saying that orgasms aren't beautiful or pure?"

I laughed a little. "I guess they are _beautiful_," I said. "I don't know about pure..."

"I guess it depends on who's there with you when it happens," Adrian said.

"Yeah," I said. "I guess so."

"Well, in any case," Adrian said. "I know it couldn't have been easy for you to... open yourself up to magic like that. Historically, you haven't always been comfortable with it."

"You understood that about me so early on," I said. "At the mini-golf course, when Jill was using her magic..."

"I saw the look on your face," Adrian said. "That was all I needed to see."

"Of course, you also thought a spirit-dream would be the best way to communicate with me..."

"Well, that turned out all right in the long run, didn't it?" Adrian said. "I mean, leaving aside the whole... everything bad that happened. It's been worth it, hasn't it?"

"Yes," I said. I thought back to the moment when Wheldon had held us at gunpoint and I'd thought I was going to die. I was nothing but thankful then. "It has definitely been worth it," I said.

"I'm so glad you went with me on that first spirit-dream," Adrian said. "In Rome."

"That was a great night," I said. "I was so scared at first, and so angry. But you looked so cute in your toga..."

"You made me change out of the toga!"

"Because I couldn't handle how cute you were in it!"

"I'll give you something to handle," he said, with a little growl, and kissed my neck.

"Hey, hey," I said, when I could make words come out of my mouth again. "We shouldn't... You're too injured."

"Nurse Sage on the case again," he said, and kissed my cheek. After a moment or two he added, "Remember when you bandaged my feet that night?"

"Of course I do," I said, in a low voice. "I didn't know what else to do to help you."

"You did great," Adrian said. "It's one of the reasons I love you. You walk into a room with an insane Moroi guy breaking all his plates, and what do you do? You bandage his feet and go to get a broom." He kissed my cheek. "That's my Sydney."

"And what do you do?" I said, smiling. "You heal my bruises and tell me that you want to... you know. Sleep with me."

"That's not exactly what I said," Adrian said.

I remembered his actual words very clearly. The thought of them made my heart beat more quickly. I tried to stay calm, and not think of us in the kitchen, the lightening outside, the fear and love in equal quantities running through me... "Can I ask you something?" I said, to change the subject a little.

"I'm all ears," he said.

"You forget, I've seen you naked," I said. "I know for a fact that's not true."

He grinned. "Sage!" he said. "You just made a joke! How many is that now?"

"I think three or four."

"Is that for the month, or what?" Adrian asked.

"This calender year," I said. "I'll have to check my spreadsheet to be sure."

He pulled my hand up to his lips and kissed it. "Later," he said. "You had a question, right? Fire away."

"Why _did_ you break all the plates that night?"

He frowned in thought. "Because they were pissing me off," he said.

"In what specific way?"

"They... didn't end," he said. "They're round, you know? You can just roll your finger around and around and around the edge of the plate, and it never ends." He frowned again. "It made sense to me _then_. I'm pretty glad to say that it doesn't make sense now."

"Well, if the urge to break plates comes upon you again," I said, "you can remind yourself that, while their circumference has no pre-defined beginning or end, their dimensions _are_ finite. Particularly their width."

"I love that you just take my craziness and run with it," Adrian said.

"It's sort of the alchemist way," I said.

"I guess it is," Adrian said. "Alchemists are trained to deal with all sorts of weird things." He stretched his whole body, like a cat, then pulled me close again. "You know what would be cool?" he said. "If alchemists could be a little more... friendly with Moroi and dhampirs. It'd be nice if we just all got along better. I mean, alchemists _know_ about us, right? They're trained to deal with the weirdness that is the Moroi lifestyle. Alchemists are the only humans we ever could open up to, because we don't have to worry about explaining our paleness and sun-sensitivity... Why can't we all just be friends?"

"Because they're all terrified of you," I said, then realized I had just referred to the alchemists as "they." "I mean, the rest of us are terrified of you," I corrected.

"But why should they be? We're pretty great, for the most part. I mean, I'm not sure about Abe Mazour, or my dad. Or, come to think of it, a few other choice assholes I've met. But on the whole, there are a lot of great Moroi and dhampirs. If alchemists weren't so afraid of us, and if we opened up a little to them... I don't know. It could be cool."

"What exactly are you proposing?" I asked.

"Just friendship. Cooperation. I'm not saying that all the alchemists should hook up with Moroi and make little golden-tattooed dhampirs, but... friendship, you know? We could have some parties together. Dance, drink a little wine, hang out. Why not?"

"I guess it _would_ be nice," I said, squinting a little in thought. I was actually kind of perturbed by the idea. When Adrian suggested it, it seemed so reasonable. Why did Adrian and I have to be the exception? What if all the alchemists could have friends like Jill and Rose and Eddie? I had been taught so many cogent reasons that our races should stay separate, but they all seemed like complete stupidity at the moment. It felt... strange. It was how scientists must have felt when they began to accept the Copernican view of the solar system. Disordered. New.

"Did I freak you out?" Adrian said.

"A little," I said.

"I'll let you think about it, then," he said. "Or better yet, why don't you sleep on it? I'm going to stay awake for a while. I'll watch out for you, make sure you don't have any bad dreams. You can relax and go to sleep."

"You need sleep too," I said. "You're still healing."

"Nah," he said. "The wounds are mostly better now, thanks to the amazing Sydney Sage. I slept most of the day, and it's the middle of the night now. I'm wide awake." He leaned forward and gave me a peck on the cheek. "Seriously, Sage. Close your eyes. I'll be right here."

"Ok," I said, "but promise me that you'll just wake me up if I have a bad dream. Don't use spirit energy."

"If I must," Adrian said, pouting. "I kind of liked busting down the door and saving you. Fed into my hero complex, you know?"

I snuggled up to him. "You don't need to have a hero complex," I said. "You already proved your mettle."

"So did you, sweetheart," Adrian said.

"I love you," I whispered, and let my eyes close.

"I love you too, Sage," Adrian murmured, his mouth near my ear. "Sweet dreams."

* * *

><p><em>A few notes: <em>

_Chez Gothic Retreat is an amalgam of different places I've been, including a variety of hostels and B&Bs I've wandered through, particularly this crazy mountain lodge/retreat place I ran across in California. Maeve incorporates some characteristics of three of my favorite people in the world, and is about 40% fiction. There really is a Pacific Crest Trail and it really was engineered by a Mr. Clark, and there are really through-hikers, but they don't call themselves "friends of Clark" (I don't think).  
><em>

_With all the awful things going on in the world, I just want to let you all know that while there are still sad, scary, intense, dramatic, etc. parts to come in the story, there will also be a lot of happy parts, and that ultimately, I really want the story to be life-affirming and uplifting. There's a lot of awfulness out there –too much anger and sadness and hate and self-hate (and I think the self-hate leads to a lot of the other problems). So I want this story in the long run to leave you better than it found you, even if it's just .01% better. When I finally get us to the end, you can tell me if I achieved my goal. :) _


	56. II: Getting Better, Getting Worse

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 22: Getting Better, Getting Worse  
><strong>

Adrian woke me up only once during the night. I don't know how long I'd been in the nightmare, but I was shaking uncontrollably by the time he woke me up. He held me and stroked my hair until the fear dispersed and I fell back asleep. After that, my dreams were calm.

When I woke up again, it was morning, and sunlight was streaming in through a gap in the curtains. Adrian was curled so tightly around me that it was actually a little difficult to extricate myself, but I managed to get up and close the curtain to protect Adrian from the sun. I put my shorts back on, then knelt down on the floor by the mattress. Adrian was paler than usual in the morning light, and I started to worry that he was getting worse, not better, as time went on. I put a hand to his forehead, and he felt cold to the touch. I decided to go downstairs and see if I could find something to help warm him up – another blanket, or maybe a hot water bottle. I wrapped the blankets around him more tightly but before I could stand up, he opened his eyes and smiled at me.

"Morning, gorgeous," he said. He had the best smile, even when he looked tired and sick.

"Morning," I said, smiling back.

"Where are you going?" he asked. "Not sneaking home, I hope?"

"I thought yeah, I might just pop on over to Amberwood," I said, keeping a straight face. "It's what, Tuesday?" I glanced at my watch. "I should be in chemistry class."

"You should be _teaching_ the chemistry class," Adrian said, and grinned.

"Maybe," I said. "But in all seriousness, you seem cold. I was actually just going to get another blanket or something for you. Do you feel alright?"

"I guess I am a _little_ cold," he said. "Come warm me up." He held the blanket up and after only a brief hesitation, I crawled in with him. We cuddled up on our sides, and I scooted backwards slightly on the mattress so I'd be as close to him as I could be. Adrian breathed in deeply then let out a happy sigh.

"Better?" I asked.

"Much," he said, kissing my temple. Then, after a moment, he said, "Hey, is it really Tuesday?"

"Yeah," I said. "Tuesday. Martes. Triti. Kayobi. Mardi. Dienstag."

"Stop that," Adrian said, nuzzling my neck. "You know you turn me on when you do that."

I smiled. "Vtornik," I whispered. "_Jumanne_."

"If you don't stop that, I won't be able to stop this," he said, kissing my neck, and I shivered a little in pleasure.

"Fine," I said. "I'll stop."

"Mmm..." he said. "Shame."

We lay back again, both of us aware of the physical presence of the other one. I knew that _right now_ wasn't the best time to be having sex, but parts of me were suggesting it with various degrees of insistence.

"You know what's weird?" Adrian said. "So much has happened in less than a week. Thursday was my art show, then you and me... _you know_..."

"I know," I said.

"Then on Friday, you and Jill were grabbed, Eddie's mind was messed with, and I drove up to Reno. Saturday and Sunday were... pretty awful."

"Yeah," I whispered.

"Then yesterday, Eddie got shot, and I almost died, and then we came here... It's crazy. Just five days."

I closed my eyes. Thinking of that early Friday morning reminded me of Jill. She was starting her fifth day with the H.Q. this morning, and heaven only knew what they were doing to her. Suddenly, I felt guilty that I was enjoying this moment with Adrian. When was the last time Jill had enjoyed a moment of comfort? "Did you manage to reach Jill last night?" I asked.

"No," Adrian said, and the single syllable rang with disappointment and frustration. "I tried so hard, Sydney, I really did. It used to be so easy to find her, you know? Just reach over with my mind and voila. There's Jailbait. I wonder if..." He rolled over to lie on his back, and I propped myself up on my elbow, looking at him. "Do you think that the bond I have with Jill could have been broken?" he asked. "When I almost... you know... when I almost left the building?"

"I don't know a lot about shadowkiss bonds," I said. "What exactly happened when Rose's bond with Lissa dissolved? Rose told me a little bit about it, but I still don't understand."

"I don't know either," Adrian said, a little sullenly. "I wasn't exactly... talking to her by then. But basically, she almost died, and when she woke up, the bond was gone. Of course, it's switched for me and Jill - you know, like, Jill was on the receiving end of the bond, and I'm the one who almost died, not her. But maybe a near-death experience fools the bond, regardless of who it happens to? I don't know. I hate this spirit shit sometimes, I swear. Being able to heal people and walk dreams is great, but the side-effects kind of suck."

"Oh, no," I whispered, as a new thought struck me. "When I healed you, it didn't make a new bond between _us_, did it?" I was almost afraid of the answer. I loved Adrian and wanted us to be close, but not _that_ close.

"No, thank God," Adrian said, laughing a little. "I don't think we need any more problems between us! Although," he added, thoughtfully, "it would add an interesting dimension to our sex life. For once, I could know how awesome it was to have sex with Adrian Ivashkov."

I couldn't help it. Despite the situation, I threw my head back and laughed. Adrian rolled over on top of me, kissing my neck and making me giggle. We spent a few minutes on this kind of silliness before we collapsed back on our backs, holding hands.

"Oh, sweetheart, I have to tell you about this crazy dream I had," Adrian said. "I mean, a _dream_-dream. Not a spirit dream."

"Was I in it?" I asked.

"Of course," Adrian said. "But we were like, older. I mean, not _old_-old but like, 30 or something. And we had kids. And we got married on the beach in Hawaii..."

I looked down at the disguise ring I was still wearing, and remembered the moment when we had put the rings on in the car. "And then we had kids?" I said.

Adrian looked momentarily confused. "Well, we had kids and _then_ got married," he said. "I know because the kids were at the wedding."

I stared at him. "Oh," I said. "Um, boys or girls?"

"Two girls," he said, smiling. "Blonde, like you. Also, I think you were pregnant at the wedding."

"Sounds... um... nice," I said.

"It was nice," he said, sighing happily. "It was the best dream ever. But now I can't remember it so clearly."

"Did we live in Porto?" I asked.

"No," he said. "I think we lived in Pennsylvania."

We both laughed at that for some reason. Then Adrian's stomach growled, and we both laughed even harder and decided to go downstairs and find something to eat.

Making it down the stairs was tough. It was difficult for Adrian to even get to his feet, for starters. Going down the stairs, he had to rest twice, saying that he was dizzy. Once we were on the ground floor, I had to offer him my shoulder to lean on as we walked through the hall and living room. None of this boded well.

When we reached the kitchen, we found Eddie already sitting at the table with a cup of coffee. He jumped up and helped Adrian to one of the chairs. "Did you get in touch with Jill?" he asked, by way of greeting. "Please tell me she's OK."

"I didn't reach her," Adrian said, sitting down at the table. "I tried, man. I really did."

"Oh," Eddie said, and sat down again slowly. "Um. Well. Good morning anyway, I guess."

"'Morning," Adrian and I said in near unison.

"There's more coffee if you want it," Eddie said.

"I could smell it halfway down the stairs," I said. I got out two mugs and starting fixing up the coffee for me and Adrian.

"How are you feeling today?" Eddie asked Adrian. You look a little pale. Well, pal_er_."

"I'm more or less OK," Adrian said. "Just sort of dizzy."

"'Sort of dizzy'?" Eddie repeated, skeptically.

"I just need some coffee," Adrian said. "I'll be fine. We can leave today, really. I want to find Jill just as much as you do, Castile."

Eddie sighed. "Let's see how you're feeling in the afternoon," he said. "I mean, we don't even know where she is yet. No point rushing out of the door when you can barely stand."

"I can stand," Adrian said. "I just can't really _walk_."

"You just need to rest," I said, putting his coffee down in front of him. He gave me a kiss on the cheek in thanks, and I gave him a little "you're welcome" kiss in return.

"This is so weird," Eddie said, looking back and forth between me and Adrian.

"What?" Adrian asked.

"You two," Eddie said. "Just being a couple. Not even _pretending_ not to be. I mean, Jill and I knew it was going on, but still, it's weird to see."

"Get over it," Adrian said, cheerfully. "Sydney and I are the real thing."

"Sara," I corrected in a low voice. "I'm _Sara_."

"Oh yeah," Adrian muttered, looking around wildly. "Shit shit shit..."

"It's OK," Eddie said, getting up. "Maeve is out. She left a note for us on the fridge. It's pretty epic, if you want to read it." He grabbed the note and handed it to Adrian.

"Purple ink," Adrian said, and began reading the note out loud in a spot-on affectionate impression of Maeve's breathy, enthusiastic tones. "'My dear new friends,'" he read. "'I've gone to connect with the earth mother, and also to fetch the mail. I should be back by 1 or 2 or something. Maybe earlier or later. I assume you guys are going to stay another night, right? So feel free to do whatever while I'm gone. There's fresh eggs and stuff and there's bacon in the freezer if you're in a bacon kind of place emotionally. Also I think there's some popcorn somewhere but we don't have a microwave. You seem like resourceful types, though.' It's signed x-o-x-o, comma Maeve. Awww. She loves us." Adrian winked at Eddie.

"So we're invited to stay another night," Eddie said, not taking Adrian's bait. "And as much as I want to get to Jill, I think maybe we should stay. Adrian can barely stand, and Sydney, you still look exhausted. And I have to admit that I could use a tiny bit more rest before our next fight. If we knew where to go next I'd be singing a different tune but... we don't. And we have resources here. Food, beds, safety..."

"Everything but blood," Adrian said.

"Sorry," I said, taking his hand. "We'll get you blood first thing tomorrow. You can go a day without blood, right?"

"Of course," Adrian said. "I mean, I've gone two or three days without blood in the past." Despite his cheerful words, I saw the concern in his eyes. Those other times he'd gone without blood had not been after a nearly fatal injury.

"In the meantime, are you hungry for regular food?" Eddie asked. "Either of you? I was thinking of making some eggs. I can make six or eight eggs as easily as one or two."

"I can help you," I said. I didn't quite trust Eddie to make my food.

"Eggs..." Adrian said, and his stomach growled again. "Yum. And didn't the note say something about bacon? We can make BLTs. Without the lettuce and tomato, of course." He stood up, then immediately sat back down. "Wow, head rush."

"We got this," Eddie said. "Just rest, OK, Ivashkov?"

"Sure thing, Guardian Castile," Adrian said, and saluted, military style.

So Eddie and I made omelets – mine was egg whites only – and some bacon and toast. Once the food was ready, the three of us went outside to eat on the porch, almost as if we were just normal people enjoying a vacation in a mountain cabin. As we all ate, Eddie and I filled Adrian in on what had gone on after he'd gone to bed the previous night, though I noticed that Eddie left out the guitar playing incident. Eddie said that he himself had slept really well in his little nest in the eaves, even though Max, the cat, had decided to join him near dawn.

"I thought that animals didn't like dhampirs," I said.

"Who told you that?" Eddie asked.

"Rose," I said.

Eddie and Adrian both burst into laughter. "Rose is full of shit sometimes," Eddie said. "Animals don't have a problem with dhampirs. They just don't like _her_."

Adrian wiped some tears from the corner of his eyes. "Oh my God," he said. "That's hilarious. _Animals don't like dhampirs_. I can't wait to call her out on that one."

I laughed. "I might have to laugh at her a little, too," I said. "When this is all over."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "When this is all over."

"To this being fucking _over_," Adrian said, holding up his coffee mug, and we all clinked mugs gently.

"And to getting Jill back," Eddie said.

"Amen," Adrian said.

"Yes, amen," I agreed, and we clinked mugs again.

"So," Adrian said, as we settled back down. "Do either of you have any... plans? On how we can find Jill? I mean, obviously, I'll keep trying to get a fix on her in a spirit dream, but there has to be something else we can do."

"If we can't think of anything else, we could go back to where they were holding me," I said. "Maybe get some info out of them?" Internally, though, I shivered at the thought of seeing that place again. I wondered if the box cutter was still in that room where I'd been imprisoned. It might be worth it to go back just to get a hold of it and destroy it somehow. Preferably by throwing it into a volcano.

"It's too dangerous to go back there," Eddie said, shaking his head. "At least in our current condition. They're probably on serious lock-down since their leader was killed. One dhampir at 80% capacity, one very injured Moroi – sorry, Adrian, but you are – and one alchemist who's been through hell? Yeah, we're no match for a group of lunatics armed with handguns."

"I'm sorry I killed that guy," Adrian said. "If we had captured him, we'd have Jill's location by now."

"It was an accident," I said, gently, taking his hand. "And if you hadn't done what you did, he would have shot me dead. You know he would have."

"I know, I know, and I mean, I'm not sorry he's dead. I just... I just wish we could have gotten the information out of him first."

"There's no reason to believe he would have told us," Eddie said, brusquely. "It's possible he didn't even know. Anyway, it is what it is. _Someone_ knows where she is. We'll find out somehow."

There was a short silence, during which we heard what sounded like a hawk, shrieking in the distance. Then Adrian said, "If I could just find her..." and rested his face in his hands.

Eddie looked away, his gaze fixed on the redwoods. Then he said, in a low voice, "Is she still alive?"

Adrian looked up quickly. "Definitely," he said.

"How are you so sure?" Eddie asked, his voice scratchy with emotion.

"I would know if she weren't," Adrian said. "I'm _sure_ I would know."

"Then why can't you reach her?" Eddie said. "Why the _fuck_ can't you reach her?"

"She might just not have been asleep," Adrian said. "Or maybe they're drugging her, like how they drugged Sydney."

"Or maybe she's dead," Eddie said. He sounded miserable.

Before the situation could escalate, I said, "Let's just work from the belief that she's alive, OK? It won't help matters to plan for... the other thing. Let's just try to think of what we can do next. One idea is to attempt to go back to the HQ offices. What are some other things we could do?"

There was another brief silence, while Eddie got himself back under control. Then he said, "I guess we can always just do some internet research. When Maeve comes back, we can ask if we can use her computer. Maybe HQ actually lists their locations online. You never know."

"We could just use the computer now," Adrian said. "Maeve wouldn't mind. She loves us. Especially _you_, Eddie."

"Her computer is password protected," Eddie said, again not taking Adrian's bait. We both stared at him, and he shrugged. "I checked already. I'd try to hack into it but I'd feel bad, especially if she figured it out."

"She might kick us out," I said.

"And I'd feel bad even if she didn't," Eddie said. "Anyway, yeah, we could look up the HQ, the Wheldons, whatever else we can think of. I was also thinking that maybe I could email some friends back at court – Rose, Lissa, Mikhail, maybe Mia – but I'm worried that they might have been compromised."

"Compromised?" Adrian said.

"Someone out there is messing with people's heads," I said, gently, not wanting to point at Eddie as our key example. "There's no way to be sure that our friends at Court haven't been affected."

"Well, yeah, I know _that_," Adrian said. "But... 'compromised'? Have you guys been watching too many old episodes _The X-Files_ or what?"

I ignored Adrian, then looked over at Eddie and said, "If you want, I can use alchemist technology to set up a firewall that is basically hack-proof. Then you can email away without a care."

"Are you sure your firewall would work?" Eddie asked.

"Positive," I said.

"Ain't nothin' my baby can't do," Adrian said proudly, and squeezed my hand.

I hid my smile. "Thanks," I said. "And, um, Eddie, you have a good point that we should try to find out what's going on back at court. Maybe Adrian can get in touch with one of our friends in a spirit dream. I mean, they're probably sleeping by now..."

"Oh, wow, that's a really good idea," Adrian said. "I should do that now... go lie down and 'listen' for everyone I know. Jill, hopefully, and if not, someone from court. Right?"

"Right," I said, watching Adrian get to his feet slowly and shakily. "Um, maybe Eddie can help you upstairs..." I suggested.

"I'm just going to take a quick shower and change," Adrian said. "Then I can just doze out here." He gestured at a bench in one corner of the porch, safely tucked in the shade. "I like the smell of the air out here. It's a nice change from dry scorching Palm Springs. And don't get me started on Los Angeles." He made a face.

"All the noises won't keep you awake?" I asked.

"Nah," Adrian said. "I can sleep through things like that."

So I gave Adrian my shoulder to lean on and we went down the hall to the bathroom. While he got undressed, I grabbed him a plastic chair from the porch to sit on while he showered, and talked him into using it. I didn't want him to pass out in the shower, and it was looking more and more like a real danger that he might. Adrian pouted a little but agreed. I blew him a kiss then closed the door behind me.

When I got back to the kitchen, Eddie had already brought in our plates and was starting to clean up. Without much discussion, we divided up the tasks. Eddie poured the leftover bacon fat into a plastic cup, and then began washing the dishes while I dried them and put them away.

"So," Eddie said, in a very low voice, after a few minutes. "Adrian isn't looking well this morning."

"No," I said. "He isn't."

"I'm thinking that he needs blood," Eddie said.

"I guess so," I said, hanging the frying pan up on a hook. "Didn't he see a feeder pretty recently?"

"We saw one just a few hours before we went to get you," Eddie said. "But he lost a lot of blood when he was shot. He's going to need to see a feeder really soon."

"Is there any other way to get him blood?" I asked. "Like... could we steal some from a bloodbank?"

"I guess," Eddie said. "But I think a feeder would be a lot better. There's something about fresh blood... . Moroi really need it straight from the vein, with no processing or refrigeration. Something gets sort of lost in translation."

"Hmm," I said. "Like the magical version of vitamin loss."

"That's one way to think of it," Eddie said. "When we leave tomorrow, we'll find him a feeder first thing. Worse come to worse, he'll 'convince' a random stranger to give him blood." He used air quotes around the world 'convince' and I caught the implication. Compulsion.

I pictured a girl at a bar, gazing at Adrian like he was some Greek god come down to earth. He'd take her to the back of the room, back by the old pay phones that don't work anymore, near the storeroom, away from prying eyes, and then he'd bite her. She'd squeal in ecstasy, not even knowing what was happening to her. Then I imagined myself as that girl, and shivered. "If you do that, just... don't tell me about it," I said. "I don't want to know, OK?"

"Fair enough," Eddie said. "I don't want to know much about it myself."

"I'm getting better with the whole blood thing," I said. "But..." I sighed. "I still don't love it."

"We won't tell you," Eddie said. Then he looked at me sharply, a sly look on his face. "Oh, and speaking of things that people don't tell people... . Is there anything you haven't been telling me?"

"Like what?" I answered, mustering up as much innocence as I could.

"Like some reason I might have fallen asleep so deeply on a night when I planned to stay up guarding us?"

"The wine, maybe?" I suggested.

"Sydney, really," Eddie said. In those few syllables, I heard his conviction, and realized there was no point in lying. I gave him a wry smile and shrugged. "Don't do it again," Eddie said. "OK? Don't do it again."

"I won't," I said.

"It's like you told Adrian in the car yesterday," he said. "Remember? He was trying to use compulsion to calm you down and you said that you would tell him if you needed help."

"Right," I said.

"I'm the same way," Eddie said. "Offer me help, sure. And then wait for me to say I want it."

I nodded. "That's fair," I said.

"OK," Eddie said. He rinsed off a coffee mug and handed it to me, and I began drying it. I was trying to think of something else to say when he said, "To be honest, it was the best night's sleep I've had in weeks."

"I'm glad," I said. "I just... wanted you to heal. I guess it was wrong of me. I just knew you'd stay up and tire yourself out and we all need to be at our best if we're going to have any hope of helping Jill."

"I know," Eddie said. He handed me the last plate and then picked up a small bottle of spray cleaner and began spraying the stove top with it. "And we really need Adrian to get better, too. He's going to be a major part of any plan we make."

I dried the plate, then turned to watch Eddie as he cleaned the stove top with a paper towel. "I'm worried about him," I said, softly. "He's so... His skin is cool to the touch..."

"I can't let him drink from me," Eddie said, not looking at me. His voice sounded strange.

"No one's asking you to do that, Eddie," I said, as gently as I could. "That's not what I meant."

"Because I just... can't do that again," he said. "After... Spokane."

"I understand," I said. "Really. I was just... I mean, I'm just worried about him. That's all I meant."

There was a long pause, and then Eddie nodded. "I'm worried too," he said, in a businesslike tone. "I mean, if it were just Adrian's health, that'd be one thing. We could relax and put all our energy into getting him better. But we need to get Jill back, too. This situation is so fucked up." He rinsed his hands off in the sink and then wiped them off on his jeans.

"I wish there were something I could do," I said, leaning against the counter. "I'm just sort of... out of ideas."

"You've done a lot already," Eddie said. "You're holding everything together. I am absolutely amazed by you, Sydney." He put one hand on my shoulder. "Really. Not many people could go through what you went through and still be ready for a fight."

"I think I'll be working on it for a while," I said, fighting a mental image of Wheldon and his box cutter. "I um... don't really want to talk about it."

"Fair," Eddie said. "After Spokane, I didn't really want to talk to anyone about what happened."

"Yeah," I said, suddenly feeling a kinship with Eddie that I never would have guessed I'd have. He always seemed so battle hardened. Is that how I was going to come out of all of this? "But it's not really important now," I said. "We need to look forward. Listen, how about you and I just sit down and brainstorm together? Try to think about other things we could do? Just any ideas..."

I trailed off as Eddie began pacing back and forth in the small kitchen. "I can't do any more thinking," he said. "I've been thinking and thinking and thinking and thinking and what did it get us? Adrian and I got shot, you got tortured, Jill is still captive..."

"I'm free and I'm fine," I said, though it was half a lie. "And you and Adrian are OK now – well, alive, anyway, and on the mend. And we'll get Jill back. We just need a plan."

"I can't do any more planning!" Eddie said, his voice rising.

I took a few deep breaths. I didn't like it when people shouted. I tried to remind myself that Eddie was going through just as hard of a time as Adrian and I were, though for different reasons. Finally, I said, in my best attempt at a gentle voice, "I promise you, Eddie, you won't have to let Adrian bite you. I understand why you can't do that, after what you've been through. It's not an issue. We'll find a way around it."

Eddie swallowed heavily, and I knew that my words had made their way into the center of his anxiety. The stove was already clean, but he kept on cleaning it. After a few minutes, he said, gruffly, "Thanks."

"It's fine," I said. "If anyone understands, it's me."

"I guess that's true," he said. "You sort of had your own Spokane, huh?"

"I guess," I said.

He reached out and took my hand. "I'm sorry that we couldn't save you in time," he said. "I'm sorry that they did that to you. At least in my case, it was literally monsters hurting us. These guys were human."

"You and I both had a rough time," I said, wishing I could think of something more insightful to say. I squeezed his hand, though, and he seemed to understand. He gave me a grim smile, and I saw there were tears in his eyes. I looked away before I started crying too.

"Anyway," he said, letting go of my hand. He started pacing around the kitchen, finding little things to straighten up. "_You're_ off the hook," he said wryly. "With your tainted blood and all that."

I had forgotten that it was basically common knowledge that my blood was considered "undrinkable." "I guess it makes the decision easier," I said.

Just then, something furry brushed against my leg and I jumped in surprise. I looked down to see Max, Maeve's enormous black cat. The animal meowed conversationally, then rubbed up against Eddie, leaving a few long black hairs on Eddie's jeans.

"Hey there, again, furball," Eddie said brightly. He knelt down to scratch the cat's head, and it began purring almost instantly. I had never heard a cat purr quite that loudly before.

"Maeve said his name is Max," I said.

"You sure are the maximum cat, aren't you?" Eddie said. His whole demeanor had changed in a matter of seconds. "You sure took up enough space in my bed last night." Max butted his head impatiently against Eddie's hand, wanting more caresses, and Eddie bent down and picked the animal up. "Want to come outside with me, furball?"

I smiled, remembering how soothing I'd found the cat the previous night. "You're going outside?" I said, softly, not wanting to break the spell that the cat had so quickly cast over my friend.

"I need to move around or I'm going to lose my mind," Eddie said, still petting the cat. "I think... Since I can't do anything to help Jill right now, I think I'll do some gardening for Maeve."

"Gardening?" I said, trying to contain my surprise.

"Yeah, she's got weeds in her vegetable garden," Eddie said. "Maeve's being so nice to us and I want to help her."

"She _has_ been really nice to us," I said. "And she seems to really like you."

I let the statement hang in the air just to see what he'd say, but all he did was shrug. "I know what you and Adrian think, but it's not like that with me and Maeve," he said, letting the cat back down. Max began grooming himself with an air of indignation. "We just like each other as friends," Eddie continued. "It's nice. I feel..." He sighed, running his fingers through his hair. "I guess I feel _normal_."

"That's good," I said, nodding. "Normal is good."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "You know, I used to help my mom out in the garden. We didn't have a lot of money so our garden was one of our major sources of food. I used to spend Saturdays out in the garden, most weekends."

"What did you grow?" I asked, curious.

"Zucchini," he said, with a laugh. "When Maeve gets back, you and I can do some research and brainstorming. Until then, I'll be out in the garden if you need me. I need to get my head on straight before we do anything else."

We said a quick "see you later" and then Eddie went outside, the cat following along as if he had just decided to go outside on his own accord.

* * *

><p>When Adrian got out of the shower, I helped him out onto the porch, gave him a blanket and a kiss, and wished him productive dreams. He blew me a kiss and pulled the blanket over his face. Then I took a shower as well, and got dressed again in some of the clothes that Adrian had stolen for me. I picked out a pair of jean shorts and a gray t-shirt printed with a faded image of the book <em>Pride and Prejudice. <em>I also found a few pairs of underwear my size, not at all surprised that Adrian had chosen silky and impractical little things.

Once I was dressed, I went across the hall to Maeve's office. The door creaked as it swung open, and I found myself in a room that smelled strongly of patchouli, incense, and old books. There was a translucent red curtain drawn over the window, causing the room to be bathed in rosy red light. There was a beanbag chair in one corner – I could see the laptop computer on a lap desk to one side of the chair – and a small writing desk in the other, near a wheeled office chair that had seen better days. But what really drew my attention was a small table under the window.

It had to be Maeve's altar. She had spread a cloth patterned with moons and stars over an old rickety table, then set out objects in an apparently meaningful pattern. In the center of the table there was a small statue of a happy looking goddess, her head crowned with flowers. The pine cone I had given her was placed on a star shaped plate, though I noticed that some of its "petals" were missing. Near the pine cone was a very small knife – the sacred knife Maeve had mentioned. Hesitantly, I picked the knife up. It was so dull that I doubted it could even open a letter. I found myself smiling. In my dream, Maeve's ritual knife had been so terrifying. It was sort of embarrassing to be wrong about things, about my assumptions. I put the knife back down and went back to the bookshelves.

Maeve had a huge library of books – murder mysteries, science fiction, children's books, cookbooks, non-fiction books about gardening and home improvement, _everything_. I thought about re-reading one of my favorite novels, maybe a classic like _A Little Princess_. But I didn't think I could concentrate on fiction right now. Finally, I selected a beautiful coffee table book called simply _The World_. It was essentially a well illustrated atlas, complete with maps, photographs, and facts and figures about mountains, rivers, and animals. I picked it up, thinking it might be nice to leaf through, and then began to sit down in the beanbag chair. But just then it occurred to me that Maeve's office was about the same size as the room I'd been held captive in at the HQ. The moment I realized that, the room became almost intolerable to me. I craved the outdoors, wanted to see the sky. I almost ran out onto the porch, carrying the heavy book with both hands.

Adrian was fast asleep on the bench in the corner. The cat was asleep on a nearby chair, curled up so that he resembled a furry bowling ball. Eddie was digging in the vegetable garden industriously, and there was already a small pile of weeds on the ground near him. His shirt was off and even from where I stood I could see the sweat glistening on his back. I imagined what Kristina would say if she could see him now. I wondered if she and Julia had gotten back to Amberwood safe and sound. Then I wondered what I would say to her if I ever saw her again.

I shook off the negative thoughts and sat down on a chair where I could have a view of both Adrian and the redwood forest, then began looking through the atlas. It was a lovely, fully illustrated tome, complete with illustrations of animals, plants, and cultural items associated with each region. I opened the atlas to California and used my fingertips to trace the miles I'd covered over the past few days. I wondered where Jill could be, and then began thinking about where the four of us could go once we had her back, safe and sound. Was any place safe from alchemists, Strigoi, guardians, and all the world's more mundane dangers?

The sun was warm on my back, and I could hear the loud purring of the cat, punctuated by occasional soft snores from Adrian and the sound of Eddie digging in the garden. It was surprisingly peaceful, and I looked heavenward, thanking God that we had ended up in this place. Then something Maeve had said to me the previous night made me flip to a certain section in the book and read carefully. "That would be perfect," I whispered. "But impossible."

Just then, Adrian groaned. I ran to his side, taking his hand and helping him sit up.

"Adrian?" I said, gently. "What is it, love?"

"Lissa," he said. "Lissa's not... she's not herself. Someone got to her. She thinks I'm the enemy."

"What's going on?" Eddie asked, jogging over. He was using his t-shirt to mop off some of his sweat.

"He got a hold of Lissa," I explained.

"No good?" Eddie asked.

"No good," Adrian confirmed, then began coughing.

"Let me get you a glass of water," Eddie said.

"Make it orange juice," I said. "He could use the sugars."

"Sure thing," Eddie murmured, and disappeared into the house, returning just seconds later with a full glass of orange juice, which he handed to Adrian. Adrian drank it in a couple of quick gulps.

I took the empty glass from his outstretched hand and waited for Adrian to get his breath back, then said, "Tell us what happened, love."

"It was really fucked up," Adrian said. "I mean, Lissa wouldn't even talk to me at first. When I told her that we _had_ to talk, she called me a traitor. She thinks I was in on Jill's kidnapping."

"Is she _crazy_?" I said, louder than I had intended to. A few small birds flew away, and the cat stirred. I lowered my voice. "Doesn't she remember the part where you saved Jill's _life_? I mean, everyone knows that you two are as close as brother and sister. How could she think...?" .

"Trust me, I mentioned all that to her," Adrian said. "But it didn't help. She was rambling about some sort of long-term plot. She said that was trying to depose her, like, as a way of getting back at her for what happened to my aunt, apparently? I tried to tell her, I don't blame her for that, I mean, like, if anyone other than my aunt was going to be queen, I would want it to be her, you know? But she wouldn't listen to me. She told me that the three of us are all at the top of the Guardian's shit list."

"Fantastic," I said.

"Oh, fuck," Eddie muttered, almost at the same time.

"She looked really weird," Adrian said, miserably. "Like, her aura was all wrong. The silver was in the wrong place."

"What's this about silver?" a voice asked behind us. We turned around to see Maeve, stepping out onto the porch from the backdoor.


	57. II: The Wooden Dove

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 23: The Wooden Dove**

At first, I almost didn't recognize her. Gone was the witchy wardrobe of the day before. Now, Maeve wore a pink tank top and a pair of running shorts the exact same purple shade as her hair. She was red-faced and exhilarated from exercise, and without her heavy eye make-up, she looked younger than she had the day before, closer to my age. "I'd ask if you were stealing my silver, but I don't have any!" she said, winding her headphones around a little pink mp3 player.

My mind went completely blank. I couldn't think of any way to explain the snippet of conversation she'd overheard. I didn't even know what Adrian had meant when he'd said "the silver was in the wrong place" – how could I make up a lie? Luckily, Eddie came to the rescue, casually striding over to Maeve's side. "Did you get anything good in the mail?" he asked.

"I got two checks!" Maeve said, holding up some envelopes. If she noticed that Eddie had brushed off her question, she didn't show it. She seemed a little distracted by his shirtless physique. I could swear that I saw her lick her lips.

"Checks?" Eddie repeated.

"Yeah, as in, money! For papers I wrote for some integrity-challenged students!" She wiggled her butt in a show of joy. "This is going to help us a lot. And on top of it, I had a great run! It's _sooo_ good to be running again, you guys don't even _know_!"

"Had you stopped running for a while?" I asked, politely.

"Yeah, I had to stop for about a year," Maeve said, and took a long drink from her water bottle. "My doctor only cleared me to start running again like, three weeks ago."

"Your doctor?" I repeated.

"I used to exercise compulsively," Maeve said casually. "I had a sort of eating disorder. Well, not a _sort_ of disorder, just – a _disorder_, full stop. Not enough food, too much exercise. Now I more or less have my head on straight again, so I can run just for the love of running."

"Oh," I said. "Well, I'm glad that you're healthy now." It was a lame thing to say, but it was all I could think of. I felt really uncomfortable all of a sudden, and glanced at Adrian and Eddie to see if they were looking at me. They weren't, though, and I relaxed slightly. She wasn't talking about _me_. She was talking about compulsive exercise, not exercise for the sake of fitness.

"Speaking of healthy," Maeve said, looking at Adrian. "Are you okay, Aaron, honey?"

The answer to that was obvious. It was a warm afternoon in May and Adrian was huddled under a blanket, his face pale and drawn. But he smiled and said, "I'm fine. Just dazzled by your beauty, oh Maeve."

"You are the most adorable bullshitter," Maeve said, affectionately. Then she looked at me. "He's gotten worse," she said. It wasn't a question.

"He needs medicine," Eddie said. "I'm going to hike to the nearest town and get him something."

I tried to catch Eddie's eye. Medicine? But he was looking at Maeve.

"I'm glad you got back before I left," Eddie went on, "so I can ask your advice on the best route."

"I can do better than that," Maeve said. "I'm on my way to the airport to pick up Tony anyway, so I can give you a lift."

"Like... in a car?" Eddie said, surprised.

"Well, I could try the other kind of lifting, but I don't know how far I could carry you," she said, in a dry tone.

"Wait," I said. "I don't understand. You have a car?"

"It's at the ranger station," Maeve said. "I mean, it's _sort_ of like a car. It works fully like, 40% of the time."

Eddie smiled tightly. "Sounds great," he said.

Maeve and Eddie agreed that they would leave in about an hour, as soon as Maeve had had a chance to shower and change, and that Eddie would have to hitch-hike back. Eddie offered to make her lunch in the meantime, and Maeve told him he was sweet, her eyes wandering over his shirtless torso again.

"That Emily would have to be _crazy_ not to love you," Maeve added, taking a long drink of her water. Then she saw the pile of weeds that Eddie had pulled out of the ground earlier and she clapped her hands with delight. "Were you weeding for me, Mason?" she asked.

Eddie smiled sheepishly. "Just trying to repay some of your kindness." He started to put his shirt back on, and I saw Maeve almost object. I hid my smile. I understood Maeve's perspective. I loved Adrian with my entire heart and soul, but I really didn't mind seeing Eddie with his shirt off. I hoped that God understood.

"I knew I was right to trust you three," Maeve said. "You guys are seriously _quality_ people." Then she looked over at Adrian. "Can I get you anything, Aaron?" she asked. "Are you hungry, thirsty, whatever?"

For a moment, I imagined Adrian saying, "Why yes, I'm blood-starved, and I'd like some of your blood, please." But of course he didn't do anything like that. He simply thanked her for her courtesy and said he didn't need anything.

"Okay, well, do _you_ need anything, Sara?"

"Well, I feel bad asking another favor, especially since you've already been such a lifesaver, but would it be OK if I used your computer a little?"

"Oh, of _course_," Maeve said. "Go ahead."

"Is there a password?" I asked, as if I didn't know.

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," she said. "The password is 'a Pokemon named Tony' – all one word." She laughed. "When I first started dating him, all my friends teased me that I was like a Pokemon named Tony, because all I could do was talk about him." She cocked her head to the side, like a bird. "Tony?" she said, in a weirdly chirpy tone. "Tony! Nee? Tone! TONY!"

I didn't get her reference, but Adrian and Eddie laughed, so I laughed a little too. "Thanks so much," I said. "It's very kind of you. Really, you've been so nice to us I don't know what to say."

She waved off my thanks, saying, "No problem. You just have to promise not to put a bunch of weird malware on my computer or anything like that."

Considering that I was going to use alchemist technology to completely secure her computer against all viruses and attacks, I felt confident promising her that I wasn't going to harm her computer in any way. Maeve nodded and went back into the house, singing to herself, "Shower shower shower shower..."

Once she was gone, I leaned close to Adrian and murmured, "What did you mean about the silver?"

Adrian frowned slightly, then said, "Normally, if I am just looking at a spirit user in real life, the aura has wide bands of silver, with a few other colors mixed in. Lissa's aura is silver with a band of pink through the middle. If I see her in a spirit dream, the aura looks the same, only... faded. Like, a color photocopy rather than the real thing. You know?"

Eddie and I nodded, though neither of us _really_ knew what he meant, and probably never would.

"And during a spirit dream you also have an extra band of silver around your regular aura, right?" Adrian continued, and Eddie and I nodded again. "Anyway, when I saw her just now, Lissa's aura looked a little faded because it was just a spirit dream, so that was normal, and there was an extra bit of silver, which was normal, but... OK, there were horizontal bands of silver woven through her aura, so that it almost made a checkerboard. It wasn't _her_ silver, do you see what I mean? It was someone else's. Like someone had painted over her aura with something else. And also, there were..." He frowned, then looked at Eddie for a moment. "There were some black lines, like there are in your aura, even now, Eddie." He looked more closely at the space above Eddie's head, his eyes going slightly cross-eyed. "_Shit_, Eddie," he said. "There are dots of silver in _your_ aura, too. I didn't notice before because I was so distracted by the black lines and shit." Adrian looked back and forth between me and Eddie. "What the fuck is going on?" he said.

"I don't know," I said, softly. "But the extra silver in the auras suggests that our enemies, whoever they are, have a spirit user on their side."

"Must be," Adrian said. "But who?"

"Lissa said that Terasov's psych ward was full of criminal spirit users," Eddie said. "Spirit users are rare, but they're not like, unheard of. They could have found _anyone_."

"But why would a Moroi work with the HQ?" I said. "And for that matter, why would the HQ work with a Moroi?"

"Maybe they're not all working together," Eddie suggested, without much enthusiasm.

"So it was a coincidence that Lissa's memories got tampered with, your memories got tampered with, while Sydney and Jill were both kidnapped and Sydney was set up to take the fall?" Adrian said.

"Yeah, it does sound pretty stupid, doesn't it," Eddie said.

"I guess we'll –" Adrian said, then began coughing heavily, and Eddie and I fell silent, listening to the sound of Adrian's body beginning to give way to his injuries.

"Let me and Eddie help you up to the bedroom," I said, once the coughing fit had ebbed. "You can get some more sleep up there."

"Maeve will see that I can't really walk and wonder what's wrong with me," Adrian murmured, in a worried tone.

"I don't think we need to worry about Maeve," I said.

"Besides, she's probably in the shower by now," Eddie said. "She won't see. Now is the perfect time. Come on, we'll help you."

Reluctantly, Adrian got up, and, working together, Eddie and I helped him back into the house, through the kitchen and living room, and up the stairs to the small attic room. Adrian lay down on the mattress with relief, and I knelt down by him to pull the blankets up around him. He was still so cold.

"Do you need anything, love?" I asked him. "Some hot tea, something like that?"

"I just want you stay and cuddle with me a bit," he said, in a fair imitation of his old flirtatious self. "I just need some Sydney Sage time."

"I could do that," I said, affectionately. "For a minute or two, anyway. I could use some Adrian time, too." I leaned down to kiss him.

"Um, guys?" Eddie said, but neither Adrian nor I looked um. A moment passed. Then Eddie spoke again. "You two are gross, you know that?" he said. For a second, I thought he was kidding, until I looked up and saw the expression on his face. He was actually a little angry, and I found my own anger rising in me.

"Ex_cuse_ me?" I said. "I thought we were past that whole human-Moroi thing?"

"I don't give a shit about that," Eddie said. "I'm talking about how you guys are so wrapped up in your stupid sex lives that you don't care about Jill. You were the same back in Palm Springs, having your little – _whatever_ it was – and not caring how it affected Jill. And now you're doing it a_gain, _having the time of your lives playing kissyface, so much that you've forgotten all about her_. _Especially you, Adrian. It's like she doesn't even exist to you."

"For one thing –" I said, but Adrian cut me off.

"Where do you get off telling me how I feel?" Adrian said. His voice was soft, but I felt the anger seething through the words. "Isn't it possible that I am _completely_ worried about Jill, and that I want to spend time with Sydney partially as a way of coping with, like, the whole situation?"

"You don't –" Eddie said.

"Shut up," Adrian said, interrupting him. "Shut up and listen to me, Eddie. I almost _died_ yesterday. And you know what I thought to myself, in that moment when I was falling, and the blood was pouring out of me, and my life was slipping away? I just thought: _I really wish I could kiss Sydney a few more times_. That's what I thought."

"And you –" Eddie said.

"And I wondered whether there was kissing in heaven, and whether I'd see her again there, and whether my life had amounted to anything. Then I thought that it had, since I had met her, and hopefully saved her life."

"Adrian," I said, blinking back sudden tears. "Your life is valuable, no matter what. Don't think –"

"And now that I'm alive," Adrian continued, "I am going to try to grab a few moments with my girl whenever I can, and grab a few moments of happiness when I can, because there is a very real chance that we won't all live through this bullshit."

"What do you –" Eddie began.

"Whoever has Jill is going to be armed," Adrian said. "And no matter how we plan it, we could die when we go to get her back. That's the truth. So I'm going to be happy with my sweetheart while I still can. If that's OK with you, great. If it's not, I don't give a shit. Me being miserable doesn't set Jill free. It just wastes the few days of life I may have left to live. The days that _all_ of us have left to live."

There was a long silence after that. Up until that moment, it hadn't occurred to me that some of us might die in our attempt to rescue Jill. Somehow, I'd thought that since I had gotten free, we were over the worst of it, that somehow we'd just find Jill and... get her. But Adrian's words made me realize how foolish I'd been. I watched Eddie's expression change as he took in what Adrian had said. Then I broke the silence. "Adrian's right," I said. "Come on, Eddie. You and I had some fun last night, hanging out with Maeve. We're worried sick about Jill, but it's human nature. People laugh even at funerals. We can't be miserable every single second or we'd go crazy."

Eddie looked down at his shoes. "Fair point, I guess. I don't know. Maybe we should figure this all out later or something."

"Nothing to figure out," Adrian said. "We all agree. Our number one priority is saving Jill. But along the way, if we can find some way to be something other than miserable, that would be a good thing."

"And we can't save Jill unless we're healthy," I said.

Eddie nodded. "I know," he said. "I know. That's why I'm going to get you some blood."

"Thanks," Adrian said, more gently. "I really appreciate that, man."

"I'll help," I said, quickly. "I'll do some research. I'll find out where there are blood donation clinics and other places like that nearby. Places where maybe Eddie can get you some blood without too much trouble."

"That's great, guys," Adrian said. "I appreciate it. Really."

Eddie nodded and turned to go, then looked back at us and said, "Look, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I'm just... stressed out."

"We all are," I said. "No need to apologize."

Eddie nodded again. "Get some rest, buddy," he said, looking at Adrian. "I'll leave as soon as I can and come back as soon as I can." We exchanged quick goodbyes and then Eddie went downstairs.

Once Eddie was gone, I lay down on the bed on top of the covers. Adrian got close to me, his body cocooned in layers of blankets.

"Castile's a cranky little dhampir, isn't he?" he said, calmly.

"Can I ask you something?" I said, ignoring his comment.

"You already did," he said, smirking.

"Do you think that maybe using spirit is making you worse?" I asked, ignoring his comment. "You seemed a lot better before you used spirit to contact Lissa in that dream."

"I guess maybe..." Adrian said, thoughtfully. I could tell it was a new thought for him. "It's not like spirit usually does me many favors," he added. "It _could_ be making me worse, yeah."

"Then just rest for now," I said. "Don't use any more spirit for a while."

"I guess," Adrian said, uncertainly. "But I... I mean, _Jill_. I have to find her."

"Once we get you some blood," I said. "You can try again then."

Adrian sighed. "OK, Miss Sage," he said.

"Don't call me that," I said sharply.

"OK," he said, clearly surprised by my request. "Um. Any reason?"

"That's what Wheldon called me," I said.

"Then I'll just call you sweetheart," he said. "Honeypie. Celery stick..."

"Shut up," I said, smiling. "You could just call me Sydney. It's my name, you know."

"Is it?" he said. "I forgot. Kiss me until I remember."

"I have to go do some research," I said. "I'm trying to help you."

"I know," Adrian said. "But can I have a kiss first?"

"You can have three or four kisses," I said. I pressed my lips against his, feeling the softness and the coolness of his skin. Sometimes a soft kiss excited me more than the most passionate, breathless make out session. "I love you," I said, when I pulled away. "And like I said, when this is all over you can have as many kisses as you want."

"Can I have other stuff, too?" he asked, looking down my shirt.

"If you're a good boy," I said.

"I'm usually pretty bad," he said.

"Not in my experience," I said, and he grinned. "Anyway, let me go. I'm going to try to find out about the HQ, and maybe figure out where we can go after we get Jill back."

"Oh, that's a nice thing to think about," Adrian said. "We need someplace to hide out. Someplace nice. Hey, let's go to Mexico!"

"That's a good idea, actually," I said. "A busy tourist location would be easy to disappear in. I'll keep it in mind."

"If we actually go to Mexico, we might actually have some fun," he said. "Spring break! Woo-hoo!"

"Fun sounds fun," I said, and Adrian let out a creaky laugh.

"I love you so fucking much," he said. "Go nerd it up, gorgeous. Just... come back and check on me, OK?"

"I will," I said. "Just get some rest. And remember what I said. Don't try to use spirit."

"I know," Adrian said. "I'll be a good boy."

After a slightly prolonged goodbye, I made my way back down to Maeve's office, then closed the door behind me. First, I opened several of the windows, to mitigate the awful closed-in feeling I got from the small and otherwise cheerful room. Then I moved Maeve's laptop from the floor to the desk and took a few items out of my alchemist kit. It only took five minutes to set up a kinestrometric firewall for Maeve's little Macbook. Once I was certain that the computer was safe from prying eyes, I entered her password – I had to take a few guesses as to how to spell "Pokemon," but got it eventually – and settled into research mode.

My first task was finding a nearby drop-in blood donation center in the tiny town of Gold Run. I printed out a map showing the center's location, jotting down the address and hours of operation on the back. Then I did a quick search in the county's encrypted database to find the building's blueprint and printed out a schematic of the relevant floors. I brought the printouts to Eddie, who was in the kitchen, rinsing off some hard boiled eggs. He dried his hands, glanced at the papers, then stared at me.

"Blueprints," he said.

"Yeah," I said. "Just be careful that you don't take them too literally. Sometimes buildings differ slightly from their blueprints. I've found _that_ out the hard way."

He shook his head in disbelief. "You really are a BAMF, you know that, Syd?"

"What's a BAMF?" I asked.

He laughed. "Basically, it's Sydney Sage," he said, and began shelling the eggs. "Go on, go back to your research. I know we're in capable hands."

"Thanks," I said, and turned to go.

"Wait," he said, and I looked back. "Um," he said. "I _am_ really sorry for what I said. I seem to be snapping at everyone lately. I don't know what's wrong with me."

"It has to be hard to have two sets of memories," I said.

Eddie made a face. "I just have one set," he said. "And it's shitty."

I didn't know what to say to that, but Eddie didn't seem to need an answer, so I just went back to the office to do some more research.

This time, my goal was to find out some more about the Wheldons. But there was no obituary for him, nor was there a mention in a police blotter of the shoot-out and subsequent death of the eldest Wheldon. In fact, there was no information of _any_ kind about the man or his sons. This was unusual, I felt, and was probably not a coincidence. It was as if someone had gone through the internet and wiped it clean of any reference to the Wheldons.

Then I started researching the Human Quorum itself. Per their terrifyingly perky website, they were some sort of humanitarian group – but what they actually did to help humanity was unclear. Each page of their site was illustrated with stock photos of smiling children and happy couples, and the few lines of text were vague and bewildering.

_We all know that the world faces a variety of dangers today. That's why the Human Quorum is working to make the world a better place for that most magnificent of God's creations: humanity! Black, white, young, or old, we all deserve a safe, welcoming planet, free of danger and harm. So support the Human Quorum in our work. _

There were no details on exactly what their "work" entailed, nor was there any contact information. Frustrated, I ran a search on the owner of the IP address, but it was listed as "The Human Quorum, LLC" – a business which, according to every other database I could access, didn't exist. Another dead end.

It was time for a Plan B. I mixed together some powdered lemon rind, pulverized obsidian, and a few other ingredients to create a compound that could retrieve deleted internet links. I put some on my right wrist – my mousing wrist – and some more on the modem. Then I ran one more search. I didn't find much more information this time. Whoever had cleaned the internet of mention of the Wheldons and the HQ had done a good job. However, I did find a very brief article on _The Monterrey Herald _website that had been taken down only 31 hours ago. Apparently, the HQ had donated a large sum to an environmental group that was primarily concerned with protecting endangered elephant seals. Why would they have done that? What did elephant seals have to do with humanity? And what was the point of deleting the blurb from the internet, if it didn't mean anything? "Curiouser and curiouser," I muttered to myself.

There was a knock on the door, and then Eddie stepped into the room. "I made you some lunch," he said, and put down a plate with some sliced strawberries, two hard boiled eggs, a slice of zucchini bread (of course), and a little salad of tomatoes and cucumber. "I hope you like it," he said.

"It looks good," I said.

"Maeve just got those strawberries," he said. "They're really good. I brought some up to Adrian, too, with a sandwich and stuff."

"Oh, you started in on the strawberries," Maeve said, coming in behind him. Since I'd last seen her, she had gotten dressed in a long lacy black skirt and a black tank top. She had also applied a lot of eye-makeup and some dark red lipstick, and she again looked to be about 25. I wondered how old she really was. "Well, are you going to eat a slice or what?" Maeve went on, gesturing to the fruit on my plate. "Some friends of ours grow strawberries in a greenhouse. I traded some duck eggs for 'em. They're amazing."

I ate one of the slices of strawberry, and nodded. "They're great," I said.

"Strawberries are very similar, nutrition wise, to carrots," she said. "Eat as much as you want. I mean, ideally you'd eat whatever you wanted anyway but since I can't convince you of that..." She shrugged. "Hey, Mason, when do you want to get going?"

"Just give me five minutes to get showered and changed and stuff, and then we can go," Eddie said. "No one would want to share a car with me right now."

Maeve smiled. "I didn't want to _saaaaayyy_ anything," she said. "But yes, you are smelling rather... manly."

Eddie laughed. "Nice way to put it," he said, and wandered off in the direction of the bathroom.

"I'm glad he's gone," Maeve said, conspiratorially, as soon as he was out of earshot. "I wanted to talk to you alone, see if you were feeling any better today."

"I'm fine," I said.

"No more blood everywhere?" she asked.

"No," I said. "I must've just been tired."

She nodded, then began moving papers around on her desk, clearly looking for something. "Well, in case you're not really fine, which, let's face it, is probably the case, because no one admits it when they're not fine, it's like, 'yes, my leg is broken and wasps are stinging me and I'm half sunk in quicksand, but I'm fine,' I mean, really..." She frowned. "What was I saying? Oh, yeah. In case you're not really fine, I made you something. What did I do with... A-ha!" She held something up triumphantly, then handed it to me.

It was a small carving of a bird, no bigger than a penny, made from what looked to be wood. "It's beautiful," I said.

"It's a dove," she said. "I made it from part of the pine-cone you gave me. It's for hope, you know? 'Cause you already had faith and love." She gestured to my necklaces.

"You made this for me?" I said, sincerely touched.

"I woke up at sunrise, full of energy," she said. As she spoke, she took the bird from my hands, then wound a green ribbon around its wings and body once so that the bird could be made into a necklace. "Didn't want to wake you up, so I had to find something to do. Anyway. I thought you needed some hope. Here, let me..."

I lifted my hair and turned to the side, and Maeve tied the necklace around my neck. I looked down. Now I had three necklaces: my gold cross, my glass heart, and my pine-cone dove.

"These three remain," Maeve said, and tapped the dove with one finger. She smiled at me. "Promise me you'll keep them with you."

"I always do," I said.

"Ever notice how they're all kind of the same thing?" she said. "Faith, hope, and love? Like, without hope, you'd never be able to fall in love. And without faith, you wouldn't be able to _stay_ in love. And without love, it's hard to have hope or faith."

"Hmm," I said. "That is interesting, actually. I never thought of it that way. I guess I just always think about how in the original Greek, the word that was used for 'love' was the same word used for 'charity'. As if they were the same thing."

"Which I guess they are," Maeve said, thoughtfully. "Like, if you love someone, you want to give to them, in some way, and help them. And, of course, let them help you. That can be even more difficult."

"What if you don't need help?" I said, feeling defensive.

"Are you saying that you don't need help?" Maeve said. "Everyone needs help sometimes. I think you could use a little help these days, too."

"Of course I do," I said. "But no more than anyone else on a long trip."

"Have you thought any more about what I said last night?" Maeve asked. "About eating a little more?"

I ran my fingers through my hair, annoyed. "Why does everyone I know always want to have this talk with me?" I asked.

"Probably because everyone you know loves you," Maeve said, and smiled. "And maybe _that's_ part of it, too. Like, you have to have faith that they can help you." She touched the wooden dove at my neck. "Or at least, _hope_ that they can." She smiled again. "Oh, and I wanted to mention, there are lots more strawberries in the fridge. They're full of vitamin C. You can always use vitamin C when you're on the road." She stood on one foot for a moment, stretching her hamstrings and sighing loudly with the effort. "OK, Sara, I'm going to nom down one of those sandwiches Mason made me," she said. "Om nom nom nom nom..." And with a swish of her skirts, she was gone, leaving behind the spicy scent of her perfume.

I leaned back in my chair, feeling overwhelmed. What had Maeve been trying to say? That I should do more to help my friends, or do more to let them help _me_? I wasn't even sure. I ate as much as I could stand of the food Eddie had made for me – a little more than half of it – then went back to my research.

I hadn't made much additional progress when, fifteen minutes later, Maeve returned to the office with Eddie in order to announce that they were leaving. "Want to come see us zip off, Sara?" she asked.

"Zip off?" I repeated.

"Yeah, we have a zipline, didn't I tell you that?" she said, surprised. Eddie and I stared at her. "Tony and I put it in last fall. It's only for going down to the ranger station. You have to walk back up, of course, but honestly, it's the _down_ I really hate. Hell on the knees."

I still had no idea what she was talking about, but I followed her and Eddie out of the house and down a short pathway that curved through some trees. Maeve had put on a pair of Doc Marten boots – I knew they were Doc Martens because Maeve had said, "So do you love my Doc Martens or what?" – but despite her outlandish clothes, she looked completely natural tromping through the woods.

After a minute or two, we got to a small wooden platform built on the edge of a steep drop off point. A few sets of wires were attached firmly to trees near the platform and also to a few trees across a short ravine, creating a pathway in the sky that led to another wooden platform on the other side of the ravine. Maeve dug into a heavy plastic storage box on the platform, then gave Eddie a little harness to put on, and began putting one on herself, bunching it around her skirts. "This isn't very ladylike of me, sorry," she said. "Oh well."

As they struggled into their harnesses, I asked, as politely as I could, "So Maeve, I've been wondering - how did you guys build this house with no road access?"

Maeve didn't look up from her work as she answered. "There used to be road access. See over there?" She gestured with one hand at the side of the mountain. "You can kind of see it, but it's almost completely grown over now."

I looked where she was pointing. Now that I knew it was there, I could see it – the place where a road had once criss-crossed its way up the steep mountain. I shivered at the thought of driving up a road like that, especially if it wasn't paved. "Why did you let it grow over like that?" I asked.

"We didn't want anyone coming up here in a car," Maeve said. "Not even us. Tony is pretty private. He had a... rough childhood. I mean, I guess we all did, but like, Tony's family is... weird, I guess you could say. Weirder than most families. They really wanted him to... do a certain job, and he didn't want to."

"I can empathize," I said, trying to restrain my curiosity.

"Is this on right?" Eddie asked, indicating his harness.

"Perfect," Maeve said, examining the placement of the straps with slightly more care than was necessary. Next, she hooked a wheeled trolly to the wire, then hooked the other end to Eddie's harness. She shook some of the cables and nodded, satisfied. Then she said to Eddie, "Ok, honey, hold onto the little handles like that... right, that's perfect! Then just take a bit of a running start... and jump!"

Eddie's eyes lit up. "_Cool_," he said.

"Jump? From here?" I said. "You're going to just... zip to the other platform?"

"It's super fun and it cuts off like, two hours of our walk," Maeve said. "We land like, five minutes from the ranger station, where Tony and I keep the car."

"That's amazing," Eddie said.

"Isn't it?" Maeve said. "We ordered the set-up from a wilderness survival catalog and got some engineer-type Friends of Clark to help us set it up. They hung out with us for like, two weeks, nailing things to things and other things to other things. All the birds went _nuts_." She laughed. "Omigod, that _catalog_! Most of the people who order from there are doomsday preppers. They sell the _weirdest_ things, you wouldn't _believe_ it. Anyway, honey, are you all ready? I'd offer to go first but really I have to be the one to hook you to the harness so... you kind of have to go first."

"I just hold on to the handles, and... that's it? Just swing over?" Eddie said.

"Don't worry too much about holding on," Maeve said. "The handles are just so you don't spin around and around. The harness is what really holds you. It's safety rated to about 500 pounds. Like, if you let go completely, you'd still swing to the other side just fine. I've done it lots of times."

"I don't need a harness," Eddie said. "I could hold on to the handles the whole way."

The corner of Maeve's mouth curved upward. "Of course you could," she said. "Tony's the same way. And don't worry, we put a mattress there to crash into so I think you'll be OK, although that thing smells like a bunch of dead forest creatures." She wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"Right," Eddie said. He turned to me. "Bye, Sy... sis! Tell Aaron I'll be back soon." And then he gripped the handles tightly, swung back slightly on his heels, ran forward on the platform, and jumped off the other end, shouting, "_Geronimo_!" Maeve and I watched as he zipped along the wires to the other platform, the movement of his trolly wheels along the wire making the wire sing. He sailed across the ravine and to the other, lower platform, where he came to a stop and began removing his harness.

Maeve and I gave him a round of applause, and then Maeve began setting up her own trolley. She carefully clicked a couple of large metal carabiners into place and tested the wires by shaking them. As she worked, she asked, quite casually, "So, what's really wrong with Aaron? He looks so pale."

"I'm not completely sure," I said, which was true enough. "I hope that Mason can get something to help him."

She nodded, then stood on a small wooden block and attached her harness to the trolley. "I should be back with Tony about 10 or 11," she said as she worked. "Maybe a bit later. Or maybe earlier. He will have to go by his friend's house to drop off his DJ equipment. He keeps it there, not at the cabin, you know? Easier to go to-and-fro. Anyway, if you're asleep when I come back, Tony and I will try to be quiet. But if you're still up, maybe you and I can work some sort of healing spell on Aaron – I mean, if you want to, like, if he's still sick."

"That'd be great," I said. Who was I to refuse Adrian something that might help him, even if that thing was magic?

"Well," Maeve said, "I guess it's time for me to go. I told Maxie to watch out for you and Aaron. I don't know if he understood me, of course, seeing as how he's a cat, but you never know."

"You never know," I agreed. "Thanks."

She smiled, said she'd see me later, then took a running jump off the end of the platform and zoomed across the ravine, her skirt streaming behind her. I watched her land, unhook herself, and place all the equipment in a storage bin. She and Eddie waved up at me, then began hiking away. Moments later they were out of sight in the foliage, and I turned around and went back down the trail toward the house.

Back inside, I found a blanket on the back of a chair in the living room and brought it with me as I went up the creaky stairs to check on Adrian. I found him fast asleep, his skin cool, his breathing shallow. I spread the blanket over him, closed the curtains more tightly against the afternoon sun, and then knelt down by his side. He looked so fragile, so helpless. "I'll help you, somehow," I murmured, stroking his hair. He didn't wake up, or even turn over, and I felt tears come to my eyes.

Something leaped onto the mattress, and I almost shrieked in surprise. But it was just Max, who had come to investigate. He padded over to where Adrian lay, stretched his entire body, head to tail, then curled up in a ball directly on top of my sleeping boyfriend. I smiled. "Are you going to help keep him warm, Max?" I whispered. Naturally enough, the animal didn't reply. I blew a kiss to Adrian and an extra one to Max, then went back downstairs, feeling oddly reassured by the cat's presence.

* * *

><p>It was strange to have the whole house to myself. I thought back to my childhood years, when I daydreamed of the ability to raid the fridge, to run from room to room, to leave my shoes in the exact center of the floor, just because I could. Was there anything at all I wanted to do, now that I had the run of the place?<p>

I found a small satellite radio set and tuned in to a channel that played 60s folk songs. I brought the radio into the office, along with a plate of strawberries, steeling myself for yet more research. There was one last thing that I could try, now that I was by myself. I sang along to an old Joni Mitchell song as I began setting up the pyrokinesthetic firewall. It was a delicate process, requiring literal fire, but it was the best way I knew to keep my presence in the database a secret.

"_Met a redneck on a Grecian aisle_," I sang, as I drew a word in the air with a lit match. "_He did the goat dance very well. He gave me back my smile, but he kept my camera to sell._"

Joni had finished her song and James Taylor and Bob Dylan had sung songs of their own before I was done, but all my effort was worth it when I finally hacked into the alchemist mainframe.

My access was read-only - meaning, I couldn't modify any of the contents - but that would have to do for right now. First, I checked my own file and found that someone had added the information about my alleged role in Jill's kidnapping. Thankfully, there was no mention of my relationship with Adrian. I had officially been removed from active duty, but I hadn't been labeled as a threat._  
><em>

My little vanity project over, I searched the database to see what it said about everyone else. Adrian's file was lengthy, and I skimmed it uncertainly, but none of the details were relevant to my current situation. I went on to skim through Jill's file, then Eddie's, Rose's, and Lissa's. The files appeared to be up to date, including data on Jill's kidnapping and Eddie's "confession," but I found nothing useful. I resisted the urge to read every word of Rose's file and instead looked up Angeline. Her file was almost completely empty, which, in itself was suspicious. We knew a lot about Angeline. Why was none that data in this file? After that, I ran a quick search on all three Wheldons, and found no information at all. This was disturbing, since they were clearly ex-alchemists, golden lily tattoos and all.

Someone must have gone into the database and deleted all references to the Wheldons. That same person may have purged Angeline's file at the same time. It was difficult enough to get read-only access to this database; whoever had been able to _modify_ it to had technological skills that put mine to shame.

There was no point trying to figure out how the data had been lost, so I tried to think of other people to research. Feeling a little guilty, I looked around on Maeve's desk for any mention of her last name, and finally found a torn envelope addressed to "Maeve Fielding." I typed her name into the alchemist database, but thankfully, there was no record of her whatsoever. That wasn't conclusive proof of anything - after all, there was no mention of the Wheldons, either - but still, I felt a little relieved.

I got up and paced some more until it occurred to me to do one more search – one for an alchemist woman who had died ten years ago. I knew only her first name and the approximate year of her birth and death, but thankfully there weren't too many dead alchemists that met her criteria and I found her after only a few minutes of searching. I clicked on her name and then I was looking at a photograph of Catherine Edwards, mother of Joe, my friend/enemy from the HQ.

Catherine had been so young when she had died - only 34. She looked a little like me, but not so much that she looked like my sister or anything like that. No data in her file indicated that she was actually related to me, and I figured that our resemblance was just a coincidence. Now that I knew Joe's last name, I looked him up as well, but there were far too many people with his name in general online databases, and there was no information about him in the alchemist database beyond his mere existence.

After that, the only thing I could think of to do was to search the alchemist database for some nearby early-stage feeders. Early-stage feeders were people who still managed to maintain a normal life while serving as occasional feeders for vampires. They weren't controlled by Moroi "managers," nor did they live at any official facility – at least, not yet. In other words, they were the perfect type of feeder for a Moroi on the run from the law. I wrote down the names and addresses of all the early stage feeders who lived nearby. If worse came to worse, I would carry Adrian on my back the entire way to a feeder's house.

When I was done with the alchemist database, I took a few minutes to search the local and federal law enforcement databases for any mention of myself or my friends. Sure enough, Eddie, Adrian and I were all wanted criminals. I knew that it wouldn't do much good to cancel the arrest warrants completely - these databases were backed up with 3 or 4 redundant systems and it could take days to ferret out all mention of us. The next search was for Angeline, but it came up empty. Curious, I searched for Maeve, and wasn't too surprised to see that she'd been arrested several times for "disturbing the peace" - she'd been protesting hydrofracking, police brutality, and a number of other social ills. I smiled. I kind of liked her even more now.

Slightly relieved by the results of my work, I began the delicate process of dismantling the firewall.

When I was finished, I went up to check on Adrian, but nothing had changed. He was still asleep, though thankfully he seemed slightly warmer now, with the extra blanket and the extra small, furry body by his side. I told Max that he was a _very_ good cat, and then, feeling as if I were about to burst into tears again, I went back downstairs.


	58. II: Delicious Darkness

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 24: Delicious Darkness**

I spent the next hour or so pacing about the house and the backyard, drinking coffee and thinking. I felt like there was something I should be doing, something obvious, to help Adrian, but I couldn't quite think what it was.

After a while, I decided to go sit on one of the chairs that sat in the shallow water of the stream. I slipped out of my sneakers and carefully waded through the ankle thick water and sat down in a comfortable wooden chair with wide arm-rests. The water was very cold, and I shivered, liking the contrast between the freezing water and the warm sun on my shoulders. I stared down as the stream flowed beneath me, fascinated.

What was it that people said about rivers? That you could never step into the same one twice? It was supposed to mean that the water was always changing, and by extension, that life was always changing. It was true enough that my life had changed dramatically recently, but at the moment, my thoughts seemed stuck in the mud.

"Many waters," I murmured. "Many waters cannot quench love."

Two days ago, those words had made so much sense to me. I had known exactly how to save Adrian, had just done it instinctively. But now there was something...

_Oh, wow. You won't even let yourself _think_ it, will you?_

"You again," I muttered. "Someday they're going to lock me away for real, and it's going to be your fault."

_You say that as if I'm not you. And don't change the subject. _

"I don't want to think about this," I said.

_I thought we were talking about how to save Adrian._

"I'm not a feeder!" I said, a little too loudly.

_No one said you were._

"I'm not a feeder," I repeated. "Feeders are people who have lost themselves to the thrill of vampire endorphins. They're worse than junkies. They have no self-respect." The Traitor had no reply to that, but I was still unsettled by the thought. I couldn't actually give Adrian my blood. Why was I even thinking about it?

I remembered the first time I had learned about feeders. I had found it difficult to sleep for weeks, afraid that a Moroi would kidnap me and force me to live out my life as a feeder. Even after it was explained to me that feeders chose their lives, I still was disturbed. Feeders, I was told, lost their claim to heaven, having chosen earthly delights over every other thing. "They toil not," said the elders. "Neither do they spin. But these are no lilies." I was a lily, I knew, and still, I toiled. I spun. My head was spinning right now.

I thought about how love had brought out the healing ability in me. I thought about how children lift cars off of parents. Then I thought about how I'd managed to find Adrian the first time in the forest after I'd been kidnapped. I had initiated a spirit dream to save my own life – how had that been possible? I had no spirit magic. I thought about how I'd effected change in the real world while in a spirit dream – the pencil I'd unbroken, the keychain and the bottle of port I'd brought back to reality, the doors I'd unlocked back at the HQ. "Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things," I whispered to myself.

Really? Did _I_ believe all things?

I found my fingers touching the dove Maeve made for me.

"Maybe I don't _believe_ all things," I whispered to myself. "But I think I _hope_ all things."

I got up, grabbed my shoes from the bank of the stream, and went back inside to do a bit more research in Maeve's office. A lot of research, in fact. It was more than likely that I was wasting time – but what if I wasn't? What if there were some way...

After a while, I heard a gentle scratching at the office door. Then a small paw edged its way under the door and waved back and forth. "What is it, Max?" I said, opening the door. The cat looked up at me, meowed, and then, in a very dignified manner, walked away. I followed out into the hall, turning on lights as I went, and up the stairs to the attic room. Then the cat jumped in the air as if in response to something I couldn't see and raced downstairs, his paws surprisingly loud on the creaky old steps.

I felt my way over the bed and knelt down next to Adrian, then jumped a little when I heard him say, "Hey, Sage. I was just wishing you'd come up here."

"I followed Max," I said.

"Cool," he said, and closed his eyes. "Will you lay down with me for a while?"

"Of course," I said. I kicked off my shoes and crawled into the bed with him, cuddling up as close to him as could, trying to keep him warm with my own, somewhat feeble, body heat. I stroked his hair, wishing that there was something I could do. I consoled myself with the thought that Eddie would be back soon. I closed my eyes, listening to Adrian's breathing. I was so tired, so bone tired.

Then...

Then Adrian and I were eating strawberries in Maeve's kitchen. We had eaten a lot of strawberries and our fingers were streaked with pink juice. Adrian was trying to tell me that they weren't the correct shade of red, and I kept telling him that they were. Then he broke one strawberry apart with his fingers and showed me that there was blood flowing out of it. I wasn't frightened or disgusted – just surprised.

"See?" said Adrian. "See? _That's_ the correct shade of red."

"I understand," I said, and I did.

"Good," Adrian said. Then he lifted my hand to his lips and licked off some of the juice that was on my fingers.

"Wait," I told him. "That's not _all_ juice. I think some of that is –"

I sat up on the mattress and examined my fingers. In the moonlight, they looked clean. It had just been a dream, I realized. It hadn't really been scary, not _really_. Not compared to the Wheldon dream. So why was my heart racing like this.

I checked my watch and was surprised to find that it was after midnight. I felt on the bed next to me for Adrian.

"I'm here, sweetheart," he said. His voice sounded creaky, like his throat was sore. "Were you having a bad dream?"

"It wasn't really a _bad_ dream," I said. "It was just... strange. How long have you been awake?"

"Oh, I kind of woke up a little while ago," Adrian said. "I guess being sick made me revert to my normal nocturnal schedule." He was resting on his good side, looking at me.

"Was that really why you woke up?" I asked, propping myself up on one elbow.

"Maybe it was just that I was feeling so crappy I couldn't even sleep," Adrian said. "_Maybe_."

"Oh, Adrian..." I said, and reached over to stroke his cheek.

He smiled, then turned away and began coughing. I patted his back, but when the coughing didn't stop, I helped him sit up a little, propping the pillows against the wall so he had something to lean against. Then I got up and stumbled over to the tiny table lamp resting on an old milk crate. When I switched it on, the little attic room was lit with a warm orange glow. But even in that light, Adrian looked a ghastly shade of white. His skin was basically the same shade as paper or snow, and his lips were pale and cracked. There were deep lines around his eyes and mouth. I knelt by him, patting his back. Finally, he stopped coughing, and let out an involuntary low moan of pain.

"How bad is it?" I asked. "Tell the truth."

"The truth?" he said. "Truth is, it's bad, Syd. I feel like shit." He smiled bleakly. "Can't guess why... I've been leading such a healthy lifestyle lately. I mean, with my lead supplements and everything."

I didn't even bother to smile at his joke. I just couldn't. I kissed his cheek, then unbuttoned his shirt, murmuring, "Let's see those wounds..." He lay back against the pillows, unresisting. The bullet holes were looking much better, though naturally they were a little tender to the touch. I grabbed my alchemist kit and rebandaged him, then kissed each bandage and rebuttoned his shirt.

We looked at each other in the soft orange light and Adrian gave me a weak smile. "So what's your diagnosis, Doctor Sage?"

"Blood loss," I said.

"Brilliant," he said. "They'll appoint you Surgeon General any day now." He smiled again.

I didn't have a witty comeback. Tears flooded my eyes and I had to look away.

"Oh, Sage," Adrian said. "Don't cry. I'm ok."

"We both know you're not," I said, and sniffed. "Look, I'm going to go see if Eddie is back yet with that blood. I mean, it's..." I glanced at my watch. "Wow, it's after midnight."

A look of concern crossed Adrian's face. "If he's not back yet..." he said.

"He _has_ to be," I said. "Let me check. I'll be right back."

I tiptoed downstairs, moving slowly and carefully in the near darkness. I passed Maeve's room and heard the soft sounds of snoring coming from the other side of the closed door. It didn't sound like a woman's snore, and for the briefest of seconds I wondered if Eddie was in there with Maeve. Then I remembered that the entire point of Maeve's trip to San Francisco today had been to retrieve her boyfriend. The snoring was probably the mysterious Tony's. I tiptoed onward.

A candle was still lit in the living room, its wax dripping all over the old bottle of wine. Nearby, there were two empty wine glasses and the remains of a snack – from the crumbs, it looked like the ever present zucchini bread. Two wine glasses, I thought. One for Maeve, one for Tony. Where was Eddie? I checked around and found a pile of his clothes and gear tucked neatly behind the ladder leading up to his loft. I climbed to the top of the ladder and peeked into his bed, but it was empty. I looked around in the kitchen and the office – no sign of my friend. I went out onto the porch in my bare feet, looking across the moonlit backyard. He wasn't there.

I sat down on one of the old car seats and stared at the ground as if I were trying to bore a hole in it. I covered my mouth with my hand and began rocking back and forth. Eddie had now been gone for about ten hours, though he'd been hoping to be back before dark. What if he had gotten lost? It wasn't very likely, given his acute senses and excellent training. More likely he had run into some sort of trouble. It might have been something simple, like the human police. That could be trouble enough. But it could have been something much worse.

"OK," I whispered to myself. "Eddie is gone, possible detained or captured. How can I help Adrian now?"

There was only one answer, and I knew it. I had known it all along.

"I don't want to go to hell," I whispered, feeling fresh tears come to my eyes.

_You won't go to hell for saving someone's life_, my mind reassured me.

"Maybe I can get around the biting thing," I said, thinking of an alternate possibility. "I could maybe help him another way."

_What if it doesn't work? _

"Then I'll deal," I whispered, and with as much courage as I could summon, tiptoed back into the house and upstairs.

Adrian was still propped up against the pillows. His face lit up with hope when he saw me. "So...?" he said.

"He's not here," I said, and Adrian's face fell. I sat down on the edge of the mattress that served as our bed and began rummaging through my alchemist kit.

"Got a good cough remedy in there?" Adrian asked.

"The cough is just a side-effect of the blood loss," I said, as I began to rummage. "Not that relevant to what's really wrong."

"Sweetheart, I don't think you have a cure for what's really wrong with me. Not in that bag anyway," Adrian said.

"Don't be so sure," I said. I didn't see what I was looking for at first, so I began taking things out, one at a time.

"What are you looking for?" Adrian asked.

"The fluid extractor," I said. "The one we found at Clarence's. I'm pretty sure I threw it in here."

"That awful thing Keith used to use to take Clarence's blood and stuff?" Adrian said, with a tinge of disgust. "Are you going to run some tests on me, Sage?"

"No," I said.

"Just going to take some samples for fun, then?"

"It's not for you," I said, and took the last bottle out of my bag. "But never mind. It's not in there." I threw the bottles back in the bag without much care.

"Couldn't find it?" Adrian asked. "I gotta say I'm kind of relieved. Don't really need any of my fluids extracted."

"I told you," I said. "It wasn't for you. It was for me."

"What?" Adrian said. I didn't reply, and after a minute or so, he said, "Sweetheart? Um? You're leaving me in suspense here. What crazy alchemist hijinks are you up to?"

I turned to look at him again. My Adrian. Despite the lines that had shown up on his face, he looked younger somehow, his eyes huge in his face. How much longer could he go without blood? Eddie might not return at all, or if he did, he might not have any blood with him. Besides, deep in my heart, I knew that Adrian needed real blood, fresh blood, and he needed it _now_. Not in the morning. Not even in half an hour. This must be torture for him. And there'd been enough torture around here lately.

I scooted closer to him on the mattress. My heart began beating loudly in my chest, and I remembered the dream I had just had, when Adrian had licked my fingers. And then, each memory seemed to lead to the next: Adrian sucking my finger after I cut it on the broken plate. Adrian licking my bruised face the night we reconciled. The... other time he had tasted my blood. And looming over everything was the face of the other Sydney, the one from that first awful dream, the night that I had broken up with Adrian. Her lurid smile had haunted me for weeks. The truth was that I had broken up with Adrian as much to get away from the memory of her as I had out of fear of Adrian himself. The other Sydney had loved it when Adrian bit her. And I had kind of loved it when Adrian had sipped at my bloody finger. Maybe that other Sydney and I had more in common than I would like to admit.

_You __think__?_ threw in the Traitor, snidely.

"You again," I said, in my mind. "So, what should I do now?"

_Duh, _she said. _He needs blood and you want him to bite you. Seems pretty obvious to me_.

"I'm not a feeder," I thought.

_Fine,_ she said. _You don't have to be. You just have to give him your blood, this one time. _

"Just this one time," I thought. "Just once. To save his life."

And now that I'd made up my mind to do it, it seemed perfectly reasonable. Who wouldn't donate a little blood to save a friend's life? It was just blood. I could make more. And the fact that I was donating it via fang instead of needle shouldn't matter – right?

"Sydney?" Adrian said. "What are you thinking about?"

"Blood," I said. "You need blood."

"True," he said. "But I'll be OK. I can wait for Eddie to come back."

"It's almost one in the morning," I said. "He's not back yet. He might have gotten caught. He might not be coming back at all."

"Don't say that," Adrian said.

"I don't think you can wait much longer, either way," I said. "It has to be me, my blood. And since I don't have that fluid extractor, we're going to have to do this the old fashioned way." I paused, then leaned toward him, holding out my neck. I closed my eyes, held my breath, and grabbed handfulls of blankets to hold onto tightly.

But nothing happened. I opened my eyes, hesitantly, to see Adrian looking at me with wide, concerned eyes. "Sydney," he whispered. "This isn't right."

"Why not?" I asked.

He took my hands in his and gently unclenched my fists.

"I can't ask you to do this, Sydney," he said. "I know how you were raised to think about feeders. And after what those guys did to you... I can't ask it of you. You're my girlfriend, not my feeder."

"Well," I said. "You're being imprecise and needlessly binary. At the moment, feeders are not available. And if what you need now is blood, I'm the most logical candidate, considering my general health and the fact that I am in love with you."

Adrian sniffed a laugh. "You make it sound so romantic."

"It is, actually," I said.

"Sydney," he said. "I know you. I know how you feel about all this. I don't want to do this. I can't hurt you after everything you've been through."

"You don't want to bite me?" I asked.

He laughed briefly, then sighed. "Sydney, you don't know how... hungry I am. It aches, like in every cell." His eyes were bright with pain, and I bit my lip. "I want blood," he said. "And I want your blood most of all, like always. Whenever we're together, it's there, in the back of my mind, my dirty little secret – or not-so-secret-secret, really – that I want your blood so much. But I can't put you through anything like that. I know how you feel about being bitten, or even having your blood taken. And I know what Wheldon did to you. It isn't right." He stroked my arm, where scars were still visible from the burns and cuts. "I don't want to cause you pain or fear or sadness," he said. "You mean too much."

"Listen," I said. I scootched closer to him and tilted his chin up so that he had to look at me. Even now, even in this state, Adrian was the most handsome guy I had ever seen. "There's a huge difference between you biting me and Wheldon torturing me," I said. "For one thing, you biting me will probably feel pretty good. For another, it'll actually help you, from a medical standpoint, whereas for Wheldon, that was just... sick entertainment. And further, I'd be doing _this_ of my free will."

"But, sweetheart," Adrian said. "It's not really your free will if you feel an obligation to do it."

"Is that why you took that bullet for me? Obligation?"

"Of course not," Adrian said. "I didn't even think about that. I just didn't want anything to happen to you. It seemed really obvious."

"Well?" I said. "Same thing. I'm doing this because I don't want you to be suffering like this." I leaned forward so that my neck was closer to his mouth. "Come on, Adrian. You're in pain, I know it. Just... do it."

"I can't make it not hurt," he said, in a near-whisper. "I don't have any energy for that kind of compulsion."

"It's OK," I said. "It'll only hurt for a second." He leaned forward a little, and I closed my eyes. My stomach convulsed.

"Sydney?" Adrian said. "Why don't you lie down with me?

I opened my eyes. "I've seen videos of Moroi and feeders," I said. "They are always sitting up, leaning across a table..."

"Is that how you _want_ to do it?" he asked, his gaze steady.

"Isn't that... how it goes?" I asked.

"It's up to you," he said. "I was thinking it'd be nicer if we... just relaxed a little. I was thinking that maybe we could kiss a little. Get close. Then you could tell me when … or if... you're ready."

"I'm ready now," I lied. "You're in pain. Just do it."

"Well, _I'm_ not ready," Adrian said. "Unless that's _really_ what you'd prefer, to just... do it, sitting up, no preamble. I think it'd be nicer my way." He put a soft hand on my chin, tilted my face upward, and kissed me.

There was no urgency to the kiss, no hidden message. Just a kiss. I relaxed a little, then a little more, letting the kiss deepen. Then I pulled away again. "What are we doing?" I asked.

"We're kissing," he said. "It's this thing that people do when they like each other. I think you're developing a knack for it."

"Come on, Adrian, you know what I mean."

He sighed. "Look, the way I see it is, maybe if we kiss for a while, you'll feel better about me biting you. Like... it'll just be a sort of hickey. Right?"

"I guess..." I said, hesitantly.

"I mean... Maybe this is a sort of weird question, but, like, have you ever..." He paused, looking for the words. "Have you ever wanted me to bite you, just a little?"

Here it was. Had I? Did I? Would the world end if I admitted that, like all humans, I was susceptible to Moroi endorphins? Would it change who I was if I admitted that nearly everything Adrian did to me with his mouth was completely bliss inducing? "Yes," I said, and my voice broke on the word.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Like, I shouldn't have asked that. It was weird."

"No," I whispered. "It was a fair question."

"I guess," Adrian said. "But anyway, my point is, maybe you'll want me to, if we kiss for a while. Or maybe you'll want something else, which I'm fine with, too. There are some condoms in my toiletries bag."

I smiled. "You can't possibly be... um... ready for that, right now."

"Don't count out my ability to be inappropriately horny, sweetheart," Adrian said. "Especially if you're involved. Anyway, look, like I said, maybe you'll want something more if we kiss for a while. Maybe you won't. Maybe you'll want to keep kissing until the sun comes up. Maybe you'll want to stop and go to sleep. Whatever. I think it's win-win, as long as you're close to me."

"You're pretty great, you know that?" I said.

"Yeah, I know," he said. "Now, come here."

I leaned forward, my lips meeting his again. It was almost like being back in his apartment, making out on his ugly couch, or just against the wall by the door, if we hadn't been able to make it to the couch. The only difference was that Adrian was lying on a mattress, propped up against the wall, as I straddled him, trying to keep my weight on my knees and not on Adrian's lower body.

Since I'd begun this relationship with Adrian, sometimes it had been hard for me to think about how many girls Adrian had kissed, how many necks he'd bitten, how many bodies he'd lain on top of, alongside of, underneath. But I guess all that practice had been good for something, because even in his current state of injury and blood loss he was still a master. Just the smallest movements of his lips and tongue seemed to set me on fire. After a while, I wasn't thinking about blood or bites or endorphins or the morality of being a feeder. I was only thinking about Adrian and how completely amazing it felt to be kissing him. It had been less than a week since we had had sex for the first time, but so much had changed since then that it felt more like a year. I arched my back slightly, presenting my neck to him to be kissed. His mouth on my neck awakened a desire in me, to have him closer, so close... I ran my hands down along his body, surprised that even in his weakened state he was capable of responding so eagerly to my caresses. Just the scent of him, the sound of his voice as he murmured, "Sydney..."

Then I met his eyes. "Adrian," I whispered. "Now."

"You're ready?" he whispered.

"Oh, yes," I said. "I _want_ you to."

A light came into his eyes. "Really?" he said.

"Yes," I said. I lifted my head up so that my neck was fractions of an inch from his mouth. "I want you to," I said again.

And then I was on my back on the mattress, with Adrian on top of me, a sort of intense energy suffusing his features. And then with a sort of half groan, half growl, he bent to my neck, in a movement so quick and focused I barely registered it. There was a feeling of something sharp, just for a second, as his fangs pierced my skin.

And then the darkness became indescribably delicious.

I flew, up through the stars, was a comet, was love itself, and Adrian was the source of all that joy. My Adrian... I clutched at his back, glad he was with me as I sailed through the heavens. My Adrian. My love.

"Sydney," Adrian murmured. "You OK?"

I opened my eyes. I was lying tucked in Adrian's arms, feeling for all the world as if we'd just made love. "Oh... wow..." I whispered.

I felt his fingers on my neck, and the tingle of his healing magic running through me. "That's better," he murmured. "So, _are_ you OK?"

"Better than OK," I said. "How do _you_ feel?"

"I feel fantastic, Sage. Your blood is... different. It's amazing." He squeezed me tight. "Seriously. It was awesome."

"Good," I said, letting my eyes close a little. There was this goofy smile on my face that wouldn't go away. "Glad you liked it. I made it just for you." I giggled.

"I'll have to make something for you," he said, near my ear. "Just kiss me like you were kissing me before and I'll make it right away."

"What are you... O_h_," I said. "Yeah. _That_." I giggled again. "You have some of me in you, I guess I wouldn't mind having some of you in me for a while."

"Holy shit," Adrian breathed. "Look at you, getting dirty." He kissed my cheek.

I turned onto my side so that I could see him better. "Maybe," I said. "I'm so... oh, wow. I feel amazing."

"I'm so glad," Adrian said. "I feel pretty great, too. But you're sure you're OK? I tried really hard not to take too much from you. I figured that if I had to I could take more later but I couldn't exactly give it back, so... better to take just a little."

"Do you need more?" I asked, hoping I didn't sound too eager.

"I had enough for now," Adrian said. "Your blood is potent stuff."

"You're so sweet," I said, dreamily. "Am I sweet?"

"You're like port wine," he said. "Mixed with MDMA or something."

I giggled. "Says Mr. 'My-saliva-is-addictive."

"_You're_ addictive," he said.

"No, _you_ are," I said.

"You are too," he said, and kissed me.

"Hey," I said, a moment later. "Aren't you supposed to be sick and injured?"

"I'm feeling pretty awesome at the moment," Adrian said. He ran his hands over my back, then squeezed my butt. "You feel pretty awesome too."

I giggled again. "I love you," I said. The stupid smile was still on my face.

"I love _you_," he said. He grinned. "Look at your aura. I think I could see it from space."

"Is that what always happens?" I asked. "When you... you know... when you bite... _them_?"

"You mean the feeders?"

"Yeah," I said. "I mean, does it make them happy like this when you bite them?"

"I... I actually don't think so," Adrian said. "I mean, for one thing, they're so addicted to the bite that I think it just makes them feel normal at this point."

"Oh," I said.

"You're nothing like a feeder," Adrian said. He ran a finger along my cheek. "Most of the time feeders don't even know my name. They don't care about anything but the bite. It's weird. Like, they're using me more than I'm using them. Maybe that sounds weird, considering..."

"No," I said. "I think there are lots of ways that people can use people."

"That's something great about you, Sage," Adrian said. "You never used me. I... I hope I never used you. Like, even now. I hope you don't feel bad about it. The blood, I mean."

"I'm too high to feel bad," I said. "I'm floating a few inches off of this mattress. Like, right... here." I held my hand a few inches above the sheet. "That's me."

Adrian smiled. "I hope that when you come down you still feel OK. Because I mean, really, like... It's so different when it's you and me. I mean, I feel like I just drank from about three feeders in a row, but... better."

"Better?"

"It's like..." Adrian searched for the words. "It's like the difference between sex and masturbating," he said, finally. "I mean, they sort of feel the same but sex is so much better, when it's the real thing, anyway, you know? So, yeah, biting you is like actual sex, or at least how sex is supposed to be." He made a face, then laughed. "I guess I'm saying that biting you is like sex with you, so it's kind of a dumb comparison. Anyway, whatever. It's a connection. You and me. It's just _beyond_. I don't know how I'm going to go back to a feeder again after this." Then he added, hastily, "But I will, of course. Don't worry, you're not going to be my main blood source or anything."

"Why not?" I asked, drowsily. "That would be OK."

"No, it wouldn't," he said. "It would make our relationship about something it isn't and you know it. But maybe when this is all over, we'll see."

"See what?" I said.

"We'll see how it goes, how you feel, how we feel. Maybe on special occasions, like, my birthday, or Christmas, we could do a little bitey-bitey."

"Bitey-bitey," I repeated, giggling.

"Yeah," Adrian said, squeezing me again. "Special occasions, stuff like that. As long as you stay nice and healthy, we could... experiment."

"Sounds good," I said, and closed my eyes, cuddling against him. Then, after a moment, I opened my eyes again. "Adrian?"

"Hmm?"

"What did you mean, as long as I stay healthy? Why wouldn't I be healthy?" It was a stupid question to ask, but I couldn't help myself. It was like picking at a scab.

"Sweetheart," Adrian said. "We both know that there's something a little wrong right now. But I know it'll be OK. Once we get back home, safe and sound, we can talk about it some more and I feel like... we'll get it sorted."

"Nothing's wrong with me," I said. "I'm fine."

Adrian sighed. "I don't want to argue," he said. "Last time we talked about this, you ran away from me in the middle of the night and got kidnapped."

"Oh," I said. "Yeah." My face crumpled. "I ruined everything."

"It's fine," Adrian said. "We talked about this already, when you were in the car."

"Caliban," I said, affectionately. "That was what I named the car."

"I know," Adrian said. "God, you're cute when you're high. Too bad I'm abstaining lately. Drugs interfere with my creativity."

"Do they?" I murmured.

"Can't paint when you're high," Adrian said. "One of the reasons I cut back."

"Remember that painting you made of me?" I said, dreamily. "I looked at it and knew you loved me."

"The painting?" Adrian said, sharply.

"Oh, no," I said. "I meant, the nice one. The one with the three Sydneys. The triptych. Not the... the... the other one." I closed my eyes, hiding my face in the pillow. "I'm sorry I ran away," I said, softly. "Maybe if I hadn't, none of this would have happened."

"We talked about this, too," Adrian said. "It's fine. Those guys were going to grab you, no matter what. _They're _the criminals, not you. You're just... a lovely, wonderful girl who is going through a bit of a tough time. And we shouldn't talk about this right now. It's not the right time. We should just focus on getting home safe."

"Yeah," I said, and leaned against him again. He kissed the top of my head and I closed my eyes. Then, with my eyes still closed, I whispered, "I'm sorry I peeked at your painting."

"I'm sorry I didn't just talk to you about what was on my mind," Adrian said, in that low sweet voice of his.

"I'm sorry I... I... made you worried about me."

"I'm sorry for all those times _I_ made you worried about _me_," Adrian said. "Now, let's stop apologizing and just relax."

I smiled. "I'm sorry I apologized so much," I said.

Adrian laughed. "Shut up," he said, affectionately, and kissed my cheek.

"No," I said, but I lay quietly next to him for a few minutes. Then I raised my head. "What are we going to do now?" I whispered. "What do we do if Eddie's not back in the morning? I wish we could still use our cell phones..."

"I know," Adrian said. "But they're too easy to track. I guess that if he doesn't come back, I'll try to get in touch with him via spirit. And I guess if he doesn't come back by noon or something, we'll just... go find Gary and David Wheldon and beat the shit out of both of them until one of them tells us where Jill is. Then we can keep beating the shit out of them for a while longer, just 'cause."

"Good plan," I said, nodding. "I like it. Can I kick them a few times?"

"Wouldn't have it any other way, sweetheart," Adrian said, and kissed me softly, near my hair line. "But for now, we should probably sleep."

"Probably," I said, drowsily.

"I love you," Adrian said.

"Love _you_," I murmured. Then I snuggled up into his arms again and drifted... .


	59. II: Even in a Dream

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 25: Even in a Dream**

I looked up.

I was in the forest - m_y_ forest. My crazy forest, complete with the shower and sink I'd created on other visits here and the tree with the huge gash I'd made with an ax. I smiled. This was getting to feel like home. I was wearing what I'd fallen asleep in, the t-shirt and jeans I'd been wearing all day. I shrugged. Good enough.

My eye was caught by something on the ground - the dirty and bloody clothes I'd left behind last time I'd been here. There was a time when that shirt had been one of my favorites. Now not even my strongest alchemist compounds could get that shirt clean enough to wear, ever again.

"Sydney?" a voice called from somewhere in the forest.

"Adrian?" I called, straightening up again. I didn't want to look at my own blood any more. "I'm right here."

"Oh, great, sweetheart," Adrian said, as he appeared from behind a tree. He was dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts, as he often seemed to be in our dreams. I ran to him as if I hadn't seen him in months and threw my arms around him gleefully. He picked me up and swung me around and I found myself giggling like a little kid. When he let me down again, I leaned against him, my cheek to his bare chest, my arms around his waist.

"How did we end up here?" I asked.

"I think you brought us here," he said, stroking my hair. "It's always your doing when we're in the forest."

"I guess I missed you," I said.

"I missed you, too," he said.

"This is so dumb," I said. "We're currently sleeping in the same bed and talking about missing each other."

"Love isn't brains," he said.

"I guess so," I said. I leaned close and kissed him on the collarbone, then frowned in confusion as I looked at his chest. "Hey," I said. "You don't have any gunshot wounds now."

"Guess not," Adrian said, glancing down at himself. "Well, it's a dream. Why bring my bullet holes here if I don't have to?"

I looked down at my arms. They were plainly marked with the lines and burns that Wheldon had left on me. "I still..." I said. I couldn't quite finish the sentence.

"Do you want me to get rid of those for you?" Adrian asked, gesturing to the scars.

"I don't know," I said. I closed my eyes and, when I opened them again, I was wearing the wine colored sweater Adrian had bought for me in Reno. It was warm, soft, and gorgeous, and as a bonus, the long sleeves covered up my scars. "That's better," I said.

Adrian nodded, but I could see the uncertainty in his eyes. "If you say so," he said, then went on more briskly. "Anyway. What should we do, since we're here?" He wiggled his eyebrows.

"We _could_ look for Jill," I suggested.

Adrian's expression changed. "Oh," he said. "I... I mean, we _can_. I just..."

I cocked my head to the side. "Just what, love?"

"I just have been trying and _trying_ and I can't find her. I guess I'm getting frustrated. But... ignore me. We should try." He ran his fingers through his hair, making it stand on end. "I just feel like it's a waste of time. Wherever she is, I can't find her."

"Maybe we can find her if we work together," I said. "We can focus together, try to combine your magic with my... whatever I do."

Adrian considered that, then nodded, taking a deep breath as if to calm himself. "Worth a try," he said.

"Let's sit down," I suggested, and Adrian grabbed our red blanket, which was hanging from a tree branch. We spread the blanket over the soft pine needles and sat down facing each other. Then we leaned toward each other, took each other's hands, closed our eyes, and thought of Jill.

I pictured her face, heard her voice, remembered the light touch of her hands as she'd painted my nails. Then I forced myself to imagine her as she probably was now: in a small space, uncomfortable, probably cold and starved. Tears stung in my eyes, but I didn't wipe them away. The tears were part of it. _Jill_, I thought, desperately. _Where are you_?

Adrian's grip on my hands tightened. "Is that...?" he whispered, then shook his head. "No," he murmured. "It's no use. I could almost swear I felt her for a second, but... then she was gone. It's like how it was when you were on that Vigil shit. I couldn't reach you." He let go of my hands completely.

"You did, though," I said, rubbing at the corners of my eyes with my thumb. "Remember when we saw each other for a moment?"

"And you said you were in Hell," Adrian said, his voice gruff.

"Yes," I said.

For a moment, all we heard were the soft sounds of the forest. Then Adrian took my hands again. "Let's try a little longer," he said, and I nodded.

I'm not sure how long we sat there, since it was hard to tell time in a dream. But after a while, Adrian dropped my hands and I opened my eyes. He reached over to wipe a tear from my cheek, and I leaned into his hand.

"We're not finding her," I whispered.

"Not tonight," he said. "At least, not right now. Maybe we can try again in the morning. Maybe she's sleeping on a Moroi schedule again."

"Maybe," I said, trying to put more hope into the word than I really felt.

We got to our feet, and Adrian handed me some tissues so I could wipe away a few stray tears. I noticed he kept a few for himself.

"OK," I said. "What else could we do? I hate feeling so helpless."

"I don't know," Adrian said. "We could..." He was looking around, as if for inspiration, and his gaze settled on the tree that I had hacked a hole into when I'd been trying to find him. "Wow," he said, softly. "It's still there. I guess trees only heal in video games."

We both got closer to the tree to examine it. The ax I'd conjured to chop my way through to Adrian was still right there, though it looked a little rusty right at the tip. "Can you see anything?" I asked, peering into the hole. "It's too dark for me."

"It's my room in Palm Springs," Adrian said, leaning close and squinting. "But... my stuff is all over the place."

"Isn't your stuff _always_ all over the place?"

"Not like _this_," he said. "It looks like someone flipped over the mattress, pulled all my stuff out of the drawers, stuff like that." He turned and looked at me. "Do you think that's, like, a live view of my room?"

"It... could be," I said. "I mean, either that's how it looks, or that's how you imagine it looks."

"That's not how I would have imagined it," he said. "I honestly never thought about someone tossing my room."

"What could they have been looking for?" I said, thinking out loud.

"Who knows?" Adrian said. "Maybe _they_ didn't even know." He took my hand. "Anyway, let's keep moving. I don't want to think about Palm Springs right now."

"Me either," I said. "So, what else can we do? Can you get in touch with Eddie, maybe?"

Adrian closed his eyes to try, but after a moment, he shook his head. "No," he said. "He's probably awake. I can try again in an hour or two. I guess it sounds callous, but I'm not so worried about Eddie. He can usually take care of himself."

I smiled a little. "That he can," I said, remembering Eddie taking out four or five HQ guards at once. "OK, if not Eddie, then who? I mean, there has to be someone else we could talk to, to get some useful information. Your father, maybe, or another family member? Or Sonya, or Mikhail, or Dimitri?"

"I don't trust my dad under the best of circumstances," Adrian said. "My mom's still in jail so she's kind of no use to us right now, either, and that's all the family I've got. Living, anyway. As for Sonya and Mikhail, she's back teaching at St. Vlad's and he went with her, and they're all wrapped up in picking out china patterns for their wedding."

"In other words, they won't know what's going on at Court anymore," I supplied.

"Right," Adrian said. "And Dimitri... I just don't think that's a good idea. If the HQ or whoever got to Lissa, they probably got to him, too, since he's one of her guardians. Same goes with Rose."

"So there's no one at Court we could talk to?"

"I don't think so. There is some seriously bad shit going down at Court. And anyone who can subvert Lissa's will is pretty fucking powerful. I mean, never mind how scary powerful you'd have to be to get past the layers of security at Court to even like, _talk_ to Lissa."

I frowned as a thought struck me. "Wait," I said. "That reminds me. That last time I talked to Rose – this was right after you and I got back together..."

"So, two weeks ago?" Adrian said.

"Yes," I said. "About that. Anyway, she was in a bad mood because there was something going on at court and she was busy trying to take care of it. Someone had caught a Moroi guy putting installing surveillance equipment in sensitive areas around court. They hadn't been able to question him because he'd gotten away."

"Wow," Adrian said, as he assimilated the information. "Why didn't you mention it before?"

"I guess it didn't seem important," I said. "And then I got distracted by everything else going on. You and me, the art show..."

"The night after the art show," Adrian said, smiling.

My cheeks felt a little hot. "That, too," I said.

"_So_," Adrian said, dragging the word out to almost three syllables. "Seems safe to assume it's related to the current... situation."

"Yeah," I said. I began pacing back and forth. "They seem to want information, whoever they are. I mean, assuming whoever was planting the equipment was associated with the HQ. It makes sense, considering."

"Considering what?"

I hesitated, then began scratching an itch on my arm. "Considering that back at the HQ, they were trying to get information out of me," I said.

"Oh," Adrian said. He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something more, then closed it again.

I adopted my most professional, alchemist tone. "When they were torturing me, Wheldon kept asking me specific stuff about Rose and Lissa." I saw Adrian wince slightly when I said the word 'torture,' but I kept going. "They wanted to know really weird stuff, like, does Rose get along with her father? Does Lissa ever cheat on Christian? Nothing that I saw as relevant or political."

Adrian frowned. "Why the fuck would they have wanted to know that?" he asked.

"I don't know," I said, the pitch of my voice rising with every syllable. "But they were really... insistent."

Adrian swallowed heavily. "That's one way to put it," he said.

"I tried my best to avoid giving too much information," I said. "I was mixing truth and lies and... and..."

Adrian surprised me by reaching for my arm and taking my hand in his. I realized then that I had been scratching at one of my scars – the one from the deepest, worst cut Wheldon had left. In fact, I'd scratched so hard that now the spot was bleeding a little. I watched as Adrian gently pushed up my sleeve and kissed the scratch, healing it. Then he kissed my hand. "Don't think about it," he said. "Please, sweetheart, just don't think about it."

"I can't help thinking about it, sometimes," I said, looking down at my feet. I wondered how many years' worth of shed pine needles were underneath us. All that time passing, one pine needle falling at a time, until a soft pile was formed of thousands and thousands of pine needles.

"Tell me if you're thinking about it," Adrian said. "Tell me and I'll make it better." He pulled me close and I leaned my head against his chest and closed my eyes. "That's job number one for me right now," he whispered, his breath ruffling my hair. "I'm going to make it all better for you."

I wanted to tell him that he couldn't make this better, that no one could make this better. But I put my best smile on my face and said, "I'm fine." I hoped he wouldn't look at my aura and know what a liar I was. "Anyway, our job number one right now should be to deal with what's going on. We can worry about my incipient PTSD when we get home." I had meant it to be a joke, but it didn't sound like one.

Adrian gave me a strained smile to match mine. "Fair enough," he said. "But don't be afraid to ask for help if you need it. I'm always here."

"OK," I said. "So. Um. Work. We're giving up on looking for Jill at the moment?"

"Just for now," Adrian said. "Either she's awake, or she's consciously blocking me, or she's heavily drugged, or she's..." He didn't finish the sentence, but he didn't have to.

"If she were dead, you would have felt it," I said.

"Not if the bond was broken when I almost died," Adrian said.

"I guess," I said. I felt a lump rising in my throat. How could anyone harm Jill?

"Come on," Adrian said, softly. "Let's try to think of something else we could do to help things."

"Maybe we're thinking about it the wrong way," I said. "We're trying to find allies. Maybe we should be hunting down our enemies."

"Like who?"

"Maybe Gary or Dave," I said. "I'd rather deal with them in a dream than in real life."

"Yeah, me too, honestly," Adrian said. "Plus it would save us the trip."

"You've never met either of them," I said. "Do you think you could find them?"

"You'll have to help me," Adrian said. "Just... think about one of them. Hard. I'll try to tune in. Then we can make us some dream space and just drag him into it."

I stretched a little, thinking. I didn't want to think about Gary or David Wheldon. But I wanted to see them in person even less. And if it saved us time... . "OK," I said, not liking the quiver in my voice. "Gary. We'll look for Gary. I saw a little more of him, and I feel like I figured him out a little more."

Adrian nodded. "Then we'll try him first."

We sat back down on the red blanket and reached for each other's hands.

"Okay," I said. "What do we do now?"

"Think about him, sweetheart," Adrian said, squeezing my hand gently. "Picture his stupid face. Imagine his aura, if you can. Think about the sound of his voice, his stink, the whole thing."

I closed my eyes tightly and let the image of Gary rise to my mind's eye. The palms of my hand began to sweat and I wiped them on my jeans.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Adrian said. "He's not going to hurt you this time, I promise."

"I know," I said, glancing at him. "This time, it's going to be me who's in control."

Adrian smiled. "I love you," he said.

I nodded. "You too," I whispered.

Then I pictured Gary: tall, medium brown hair, big nose, ugly gold cross around his neck. I thought of him whining when David was chosen for a job over himself. I thought of how he had consistently insulted and belittled Joe. I thought of his malice, his cruelty, and his naked, obvious need for approval and respect. I remembered the look on his face when he said he wanted to "question me, alone. Then I tried to connect to Adrian's power, imagining an old fashioned pair of rabbit ear antennas coming out of our minds and stretching out into space.

"Got him," Adrian whispered, under his breath.

There was a feeling of the ground being yanked from beneath our feet, and then we were in a quiet, completely empty white space.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Nowhere yet," Adrian said. "Where do you think we should be?"

"Someplace that will make Gary feel comfortable," I said. I thought for a moment. "Didn't you see a picture of his house on Google Street view?"

"Yes..."

"Can we be just outside his house? With Caliban in front, in the driveway?"

Adrian thought for a moment. "I think so," he said. "I'll take us all there, then let him apply the finishing touches." Then the space around us began to come into focus, muted colors giving way to shapes and details. It was like watching film develop. A moment later, we were standing in the driveway of a large, expensive looking house. My old friend Caliban, the Jeep Cherokee, was only a few feet away, and I felt an absurd rush of affection for the lumbering beast.

And, of course, sitting on the front porch steps was the man we'd come to see. Gary Wheldon was dressed in a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and a white sleeveless undershirt. A curl of smoke came from the tip of his lit cigarette.

"Whoa," he shouted when he saw us. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"Just visiting," I called, as Adrian and I walked up the driveway to the house. "I missed you, Gary."

"Yeah right," he said. "Well, whatever. Dad's dead. I don't really give a shit anymore." He took a drag from the cigarette, then exhaled a stream of smoke.

"Sorry for your loss," I said. A pair of folding wooden lawn chairs appeared near the porch steps and Adrian and I sat down.

Gary let out a harsh bark of laughter. "No, you're not," he said.

"Fine," I said. "I'm not. He was a psychopath and the world is better off without him."

Gary shrugged. "That's your opinion," he said. "I just thought he was a jerk." He glanced over at Adrian. "Who's this?" he asked. "Your vampire boyfriend?"

"Yep," Adrian said. "Vampire boyfriend extraordinaire. I'd say 'pleased to meet you', but I'm not."

"Same here," Gary said. "What's the deal? I thought you guys caught on fire in the sunlight."

"I'm not a Strigoi," Adrian said. "Besides, this is just a dream." He sniffed delicately. "Smells like nice stuff. Where'd you get it?"

"I got a guy," Gary said, and I realized, belatedly, that he wasn't smoking tobacco. "Want a little?"

"I'm cutting back," Adrian said.

"Afraid of it?"

"Yes," Adrian said. "Terrified. I've never seen anything more scary than a joint. Anyway, it's a dream. What do I care?"

"Whatever," Gary said, and took a long drag from his joint.

"Will that _affect_ him?" I whispered to Adrian.

"It might," Adrian murmured. "It hardly matters, though. The guy's _aura_ practically smells of the stuff, for god's sake. He must have gone through a few ounces before bed. You and I hit the lottery, Sage."

"What are you whispering about?" Gary asked.

"Whether or not Sydney should have some," Adrian said without missing a beat. "She's never even tried weed."

"Today's your day," Gary said, and held the joint in my direction.

"I'm fine, thank you," I said.

Gary shrugged again. "More for me," he said. He looked down at his joint, which had burned down to almost nothing, and frowned slightly. "Or I guess not..."

"Here," Adrian said, and, getting to his feet, he handed something to Gary, who took it and put it up to his nose. I realized it was another joint.

"Smells good," Gary said. "I never smelled anything in a dream before."

"This is a good dream," Adrian said. "Light it up."

"Don't have to tell me twice," Gary said, and flicked his lighter a few times behind his cupped hand. "Not bad," he said, a moment later, letting out a cloud of smoke. He coughed once or twice and nodded. "Not bad." He looked up. "So why are you here?"

"You tell me," I said. "It's your dream."

"Is it? Then why aren't you naked?" Gary gave me an ugly smile.

I smiled right back. "Because you can't control me, even in a dream," I said.

"Whatever," Gary said. "You're probably all bitten up and gross under those clothes anyway."

"Sour grapes much?" Adrian said.

"Don't need sour grapes," Gary said, and took another drag from his joint. "I got _this_. Why worry?"

"Are you worried about something?" I asked.

"Hell, yeah," Gary said. "You would be too, if you were me. Or hell, if you were anyone. I mean, if anyone were anyone they'd..." He stopped, frowned, then said, "Wait, what was I saying?"

"Not important," Adrian said. "Hey, you don't happen to know where they're holding Jillian Dragomir, do you?"

"Who?" Gary asked.

"The Moroi you grabbed the same morning you grabbed me," I said.

"Oh, yeah, her," Gary said. "These names they give themselves, like they're people or something, it's creepy."

"So, where is she?" I asked, as casually as I could.

"I'm not telling you," Gary said, and laughed. "Imagine if this was real? Like if I just thought it was a dream because I was so high?"

"It's not real," Adrian said, and a flock of peacocks appeared on the front lawn, preening their feathers.

Gary stared. "Wicked," he said. "I wonder if they think we're ugly, you know? Like... if..." He trailed off for a moment, then sat up straighter. "Hey, man, got anything to eat?" Adrian nodded and produced a bag of snack chips from nowhere. Gary got to his feet but by the time he'd reached Adrian, the chips had disappeared. "Hey," Gary said. "What'd you do? Where'd they go?"

"I put them back," Adrian said. "But you can have as many as you want if you just tell us where Jill is."

"You might as well tell us," I said. "It's just a dream."

"If this was a dream, you'd be, like, something from the movie I just watched," Gary said.

Adrian caught my eye and gestured to me, then to himself. He was asking me something, but I wasn't quite sure what. But I nodded anyway and waited. A moment later, I was dressed in a simple blue and white checked gingham dress. My hair was in two braids, and I had on a pair of red sparkly shoes. I sighed.

"Aunty Em," I said, tonelessly. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."

Gary was staring at me. "Woah," he said. "This is a trippy fucking dream."

"Yep," Adrian said, as a group of strange, bright orange little men went by. They had green hair that stuck out at every angle and they were singing an incomprehensible little song. "Really trippy."

Gary began to laugh hysterically. "They don't even _go_ to this school!" he said, pointing at the little men.

Most of the references had gone right by me, but of course Adrian was the reference king. "They just have a lot of feelings!" he said, joining in on Gary's laughter.

Gary looked suddenly stricken. "Are you going to tell people I like that movie?"

"Nah," Adrian said. "It's cool, man. You can tell me anything. It's just a dream."

"No," Gary said, shaking his head. "You have to be careful who you tell things. It's rule number one of HQ. Don't talk about HQ. Even in dreams."

"Fine," Adrian said. "Then no Doritos for you, buddy."

"Oh, don't be such a meanie," I said to Adrian. Though it made my skin crawl, I sat down next to Gary on the porch and handed him a big bag of chips. "Here," I said.

"Cool," Gary said. "Cool like cool ranch." He laughed at his own joke as he rested his joint in his ashtray and opened the bag of chips.

"Can I ask you something?" I said.

"About your missing vampire?"

"No, about something else," I said. "How much did that Jeep cost?"

"Like, 50 grand," Gary said, proudly. "It it amazing? It's a total monster."

"Where'd you get the money for such a... a... a sweet ride?"

Gary shrugged. "HQ pays pretty well," he said, munching on the chips. "They're independently funded, you know?"

I nodded, then said, "Yeah, I guess they must be, if they have enough to give to the elephant seals." I caught a glimpse of the look on Adrian's face – pure confusion – and sent him a look that I hope he understood to mean, "Go with me." Adrian nodded.

Meanwhile, Gary laughed, bits of chips falling out of his mouth. "Hey, man, we didn't _want_ to do that," he said. "We just didn't want anyone up in our business, you know? Like those stupid seals matter, but whatever, people think they do. You know what they look like to me? Like really ugly fat chicks. Like ugly hairy fat chicks. I saw this chick the other day at the store, I think she was still in high school, and she was trying to flirt with me..."

"I'm sure you overwhelmed her with your charm," I said, resisting the urge to take issue with his sexist comments. "That was pretty smart of the HQ to donate the money like that. It would have sucked if people had... um... gotten up in your business."

"It _was_ smart, right?" Gary said. "All those conservation types, crying their stupid eyes out about the elephant seals, blah blah blah. They were going to have all these protests and Greenpeace sit-ins, with people driving in and out at all hours. I mean, the stupid beach is _right there_. So, we donated some money to a charity we invented ourselves, get some guys out there to fix up the breeding grounds and put up some of those floating things... What are they called? In the water? They float... Boo... Boo..." He shook his head, then smiled. "Boo-urns, man. Ever seen that one? 'I was saying Boo-urns!'"

That must have been a reference to something, because Adrian laughed. "Classic," he said.

Gary raised a chip in the air as if offering a toast, then ate it with a loud crunch.

"I think you're thinking of buoys," I said. "You're saying that your group put buoys around the beach, to keep boats away from the seals?"

"Yeah," Gary said. "Made those environmentalists happy." He snorted. "They're all worried about the breeding grounds for those ugly seals. They don't know we have more serious problems on our hands. I mean, the _humans_ are in danger, but do they care?"

"Environmentalists," Adrian said in a tone of disgust, and Gary smiled at him.

"You're alright, for one of them," he said.

"So glad to hear you say that," Adrian said. "Any chance you could tell me where – "

I shot Adrian a quelling look and he stopped mid-sentence. Then I turned to Gary and asked, "How did that work, the buouy thing? Did you have to take a boat? Must've been nice. Big Sur is so pretty."

"It _is_," Gary said, nodding. "I didn't go, though, so I don't know what they did. I'm mostly just up in the Truck."

"Right," I said. "Makes sense, it's a long commute all the way over there from Truckee."

"It is, but that's not the reason I don't go," Gary said. "The Creepadroo is lurking there half the time." He shivered. "Plus, you know, the plan." He rolled his eyes. "What a clusterfuck _that_ is turning out to be. I mean, I could've told you that, but no one listens to me. God, the sounds you hear out there at night... . Dave was telling me. He doesn't mind it, but he's a crazy motherfucker. I think he's worse than Dad. Me? You couldn't get me to go out to the elephants for all the tea in China. Or all the weed in Mexico." He laughed.

"Yeah," I said, nodding as if I knew what he was talking about. "I wouldn't like it out there either."

Gary shook his head. "No one does," he said. "It's hard to find people willing to work there. _Dave_ doesn't have a problem with it, but like I said, Dave is fucked in the head." Gary turned to the side, staring at me. "I'm better looking than him, don't you think?"

"Sure," I said. "So, it's hard to staff the place? Even with all the money?"

"Yeah. Like, we got some guys who we're training for other stuff, and they're there sometimes, but like, the all-the-time security guards, most of 'em don't last more than a few weeks before they request a transfer. We got like, I dunno, 10 or 15 guys there, and I don't know, doesn't seem safe, especially at night. With the... you know whats... in the basement."

I didn't have to fake a shiver of fear. "I agree," I said. "They should have twice that number of guards, at least. I mean, what if _they_ got loose?" I was winging it here, but again, Gary didn't seem to notice.

"Let's not talk about that," he said. "I mean, they're going to be loose sooner or later, right? And when that happens, I'm going to be hiding in a bunker somewhere, surrounded by flame throwers and shit."

"How long until that happens?" I asked.

"I don't know," Gary said. "I mean, it's not working like we thought it would. Only a few of 'em have gone over. I guess we could always use the ones we have to go and do the rest but there's no way to be sure with those things. All we have to do is wait it out, or at least, that's what the leaders say."

I stared at him, a sick feeling growing in my stomach. "It's going to be scary when they let them loose," I said. "But at least we're safe during the day."

"I guess," Gary said. "Seriously, let's not talk about it."

"Yeah," I said. "It's too creepy. I mean, what a crazy plan. To let those things loose."

Gary nodded emphatically. "I mean, I get it, we're making a point, but I think it could really backfire, no matter what the higher ups say."

When I had been tied up in the back of the Jeep, I had overheard Gary say that they were going to keep Jill for a week or two, and then let her loose. At the time, I had found that comment puzzling, but now it made sense to me, and it was all I could do to keep a surface appearance of calm. "OK," I said, standing up. "Well. It's been real, Gary. We'll see you around, I guess."

"Oh," Gary said. "Ok. Bye."

Adrian stood up as well, and I went to his side. "Smell you later," Adrian called to Gary, and took my hand. The next thing I knew, we were sitting up in bed back in Maeve's attic, rubbing our eyes.

"Ok," Adrian said, in a sleep thick voice. "What was all that?"

"I think I know where Jill is," I said. "And I think I know what they're doing to her."


	60. II: Wide Awake at 3 AM

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 26: Wide Awake at 3 AM  
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"You know where Jill is?" Adrian asked. "Holy shit, Sage. Where?"

"Big Sur somewhere," I said. "I'm not sure exactly where – I have to do some research."

"Right now?"

"Why not?"

"Because it's the middle of the night."

I glanced at my watch. It was just before 3 am. I shrugged. ""I might as well do it now," I said, getting up. "I'm wide awake. Besides, I want to get to Jill as soon as possible."

Adrian got up and stretched, narrowly avoiding the slanting ceiling of our small attic room. "No complaints here," Adrian said. "I'll come with you and keep you company. I can be your secretary. I don't know shorthand but I do mix a mean martini. And I look good in a short skirt." He winked.

"You should stay and rest," I said, as my mind created various completely unnecessary images: me in a power suit sitting on a desk, while Adrian typed away at an old fashioned type-writer, occasionally looking up to cast me adoring looks. Then maybe he'd take off my stilettos and massage my feet while we gazed at each other, hoping no one would come into the room... I shook my head. Why did my brain always do this to me when I had other work to do?

"I slept most of the day," Adrian said. "So I'm pretty much wide awake at this point, too." He waited by the stairs expectantly.

"Oh, fine," I said, and grabbed my alchemist kit and new red sweater. "If you really are feeling better, I guess it'd be nice to have company."

We tiptoed down the stairs as quietly as we could. Then, at the foot of the stairs, Adrian and I paused outside Maeve's bedroom door. "Is that Eddie snoring?" I whispered, as quietly as I could. Adrian's Moroi hearing came in handy sometimes.

Adrian tilted his ear toward the door for a moment, then turned and looked left to right. Then he shook his head 'no'. "It's no one I know," he murmured. "And I don't sense anyone else in the house, except the cat."

I nodded and we stepped quietly into Maeve's office and shut the door behind us.

"Smells like a hippie shop in here," Adrian said, still in a hushed voice. "And what is _that_?"

"That's Maeve's altar," I said. "She's Wiccan."

"Right," Adrian said, as he bent to examine the items on the small table. "Wow, she's got a ritual knife," he said. "Wonder what she does with it?"

"Probably just draws sacred circles," I said, sitting down at the desk and turning on Maeve's computer. "Things like that."

"Or like, spreads cream cheese," Adrian said. "This thing is duller than a spatula."

"You probably shouldn't be touching it," I said. "It's probably charmed somehow."

I expected Adrian to make a joke but instead he moved the knife from hand to hand, as if weighing it. "It's made of real silver," he said, and replaced it on the altar. "It might be charmed. I'm not an expert. Do you think I should top it up? Give it a little spirit boost?"

"Not now," I said. "When this is all over, we'll come back here and charm everything she owns," I said.

"We'll bring Jill," Adrian said. "It'll be a party." He had come to stand behind me, and now he leaned down, circling me in his arms and rubbing his cheek against mine. "Are these computers both hers?" he asked.

A black laptop that was covered with stickers of a grumpy looking penguin wearing DJ headphones had been placed on the desk near Maeve's silver Macbook. "The black one must be Tony's," I said. "It wasn't here before. But it's good – with two computers, we can work together."

"Let me just go grab a chair from somewhere," Adrian said. "The beanbag chair kinda won't work."

"Ok," I said. "No hurry – I have to set up a firewall before we really do anything else, and that'll take ten or fifteen minutes."

"Then I will also get us a snack," Adrian said. "You could use one, after donating blood."

I didn't look up. "I guess that makes sense," I said, in a bland tone. Why was everyone always offering me snacks?

He bent down a little to give me a kiss on the cheek, then stepped away quietly, closing the door behind him.

"Firewall," I muttered to myself. "Ok, here we go again..." To be on the safe side, I again chose the pyrokinesthic firewall, reasoning that I already had a lot of the ingredients mixed. By the time Adrian had come back, I had almost finished establishing the key circuits.

"Here you go, sweetheart," Adrian said, putting a plate down by my keyboard.

"Zucchini bread again?" I said, without looking.

"No way," he said, and I looked down to see – zucchini bread. Adrian laughed at my expression. "Of _course_ it's zucchini bread," he said. "That's pretty much all that there is in the house besides actual zucchini."

I smiled. "I like it," I said. "I'm going to miss it when we leave."

"Maybe Maeve will give us some for the road," Adrian said, then sniffed twice. "Have you been burning something in here?" he asked.

"Just some arrowroot," I said. "Prevents tracking."

"Sure," Adrian said, pulling an old wooden chair over to the desk. "Alchemist technology. Makes sense."

"It does to me," I said and plugged the last component into my firewall setup. "Alright, that should keep out almost all spybot and surveillance programs, even most alchemist made programs. Should be enough for our purposes right now."

"Right," Adrian said, sitting down at the desk next to me. "Oh, we're lucky again," he added, as he woke up Tony's computer. "No password on this one. So, Sage, what's the plan?" He stuffed a piece of zucchini bread in his mouth and made happy chewing sounds.

"Could you get online and find a satellite map of Big Sur, out near San Simeon?"

"Can do," Adrian said, his mouth still half-full, as he opened a browser. "What are _you_ doing?"

"I'm getting into the network of geosynchronous satellites," I said slowly, as I worked. "Maeve's using a satellite modem, so really, I'm just trying to send our feed backward, into the satellite itself. It should get us a pretty good live view of the California coast, if the satellite has a camera..."

"Why the live view?" Adrian asked, tilting his computer slightly to show me the map he'd found. "We've got this."

"We want to compare," I said. "It's pretty likely that the HQ used some sort of erasure technology so that their building won't be visible on normal maps, but they likely aren't trying to mess with the live feed. That's just too much trouble for something that people aren't actively monitoring."

Adrian frowned. "So we compare the live map and the regular map and... what? Look for differences?"

"Exactly," I said.

Adrian took that in. "That's... amazing, Sage. When was the last time I mentioned how insanely in love with you I am?"

"I don't know," I said, carelessly. "Feels like it's been at least a few minutes."

He leaned over and kissed me loudly on the cheek. "Insanely. In. Love. With. You," he said.

"You too," I said, and stroked his jawline. The planes of his face... his eyes... .

"Sydney?" Adrian said, and I realized he'd spoken twice already.

"Hmm?" I said, picking up a piece of zucchini bread and taking a big bite. It was so good, so sweet and soft.

"How did you figure out that we should look near Big Sur, exactly? I mean, I heard you mention it to Gary but..."

"It was the elephant seals," I said, mouth full, as I clicked a link that showed the live feed I wanted. "When I was doing my research yesterday, I found out that the HQ donated a lot of money to an elephant seal rescue, so I did some research on elephant seals and found out that there's an elephant seal nesting ground out in the Big Sur area. It's basically the only elephant seal breeding ground... anywhere. Plus, the guys kept talking about some place that they called 'the elephants'. So I was wondering if the HQ compound was anywhere near there and Gary confirmed that theory."

"Ohhhh," Adrian said. "That was brilliant, Sage."

"Not that brilliant," I said. "I acted as if I already knew, and he confirmed my theory unintentionally. It was an old ruse, the kind of thing Bugs Bunny used to do to Elmer Fudd. I don't know if Gary would have fallen for it if he hadn't been high on marijuana."

"Well, he was and he did and now we have a theory," Adrian said. "Also, you watched Bugs Bunny?

"I grew up in the same country as you, for heaven's sake," I said. "And it's just a theory for now." Then I laughed excitedly as I broke through the last security wall and got access to the satellite. "I'm in!"

"Ooooh, cool," Adrian said, leaning close to me.

"Ok, there we are," I said, opening the map view. "There's Big Sur from the satellite. It's dark out right now, of course, but maybe we'll be able to make something out."

"I'm on it, chief," Adrian said.

With our laptops next to each other, we worked together to examine each area bit by bit, comparing the map to the live view. It took almost half an hour – and at least one more visit to the kitchen for more zucchini bread – before we found it: three lights where there should only have been darkness, in a section of supposedly uninhabited space only a few miles away from the beach where the elephant seals nested. We both squinted at the screen showing the live feed, hoping to make out the shape of a building or maybe the line of an access road. Unfortunately, Adrian's stronger vision was of no use here, since a camera could show roughly only as much detail as the human eye could see.

I glanced back at my watch. "Sun rises just before six," I said. "We should look again then. But I think this is it."

"She's there," Adrian said, staring at the screen. "Guarded by... what did Gary say?"

"Ten or fifteen guards," I said. "And the things that Gary is scared of."

"Which are...?" Adrian said. "I really couldn't follow that weird conversation you guys were having. I was trying to focus on keeping everything together and _looking_ like I understood."

"It's... bad, Adrian," I said.

"Yeah," he said. "I figured that when I saw your aura. That's why I didn't ask before now. But... just tell me, OK?"

"I think they're trying to turn Moroi into Strigoi," I said.

"What?" Adrian said. It wasn't a question so much as an exhalation of breath.

"Or possibly humans, I don't know," I said. "But the way he said something about them 'going over' made it sound like a choice."

Adrian stared at me, stunned. "That's not a choice," he whispered. "It's a... a... . Shit, Sage, I don't know _what_ it is, but it's not a _choice_. It's not something you do. It's like... killing yourself. But worse. Like a murder suicide of your body and soul."

"I know," I said. "Believe me, I do."

"You _can't_ know," Adrian insisted. "It's the kind of thing you have nightmares about when you're a kid, if you're a Moroi. You think that one day you'll get too eager with a feeder and... poof! There goes your soul. There goes everything about you that makes you _you_. Our parents teach us how to feed and we learn that we never, ever take too much."

"I believe you," I said. "I do. I know you would never do it."

"Jill would never do it, either," Adrian said. "I can't imagine how they would force her to."

I looked down at my hands. "I think they're starving her," I said, though it came out in a whisper. "I think they're starving her so that when they finally give her a feeder she'll just..."

"Lose control," Adrian finished for me, and I nodded. "She'd have to be starving for that, though," Adrian said. "Like, no food or blood for weeks."

"I guess that's... the plan," I said, weakly.

Adrian looked around the room, his movements quick and angular. I could tell he was angry, and hoped he wasn't angry with me. "What makes you think this?" he asked, his voice low and shaky.

I swallowed heavily. "I overheard them in the car, saying that she'd be happy in her little cage, but that she might get a bit peckish. I guess I was too stressed out to put two and two together until tonight."

Adrian drew in a slow breath. "So she's guarded by 10 or 15 humans, who probably have guns," he said.

"Yes."

"And she hasn't been given any food or blood since Thursday, and today is... well, technically it's early Wednesday." He got to his feet and began to pace. In the small room, he seemed even taller than usual, seemed to take up more space. "We'll have to bring her food and get her to a feeder as soon as we can."

"Good idea," I said. "We'll bring her some zucchini bread." I hoped that this would make Adrian smile, but it didn't.

"I can't believe this," he went on. "There's no reason to do this. This doesn't make sense."

"We don't even know for sure that it's what they're doing," I said, faintly. "Um... can you..."

"But probably," Adrian said. "What else could they have meant?"

With him pacing around in the small room, I was starting to feel as if he was using up the available air. I got up and went to the window and leaned out of it while he continued to rant.

"It's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of," he was saying. "Strigoi are literally the embodiment of evil. No, no. I take it back. Strigoi are slightly less evil than these guys. These guys have souls - allegedly - and this is what they're doing? They torture you, they starve Jill, they..." He stopped suddenly. "Sage?" he said, in a softer tone. "Are you OK?"

"Just... needed a little air," I said.

"_Shit_," he said. "Oh, shit, Sydney. I'm scaring you."

"You're not," I said. "I'm fine."

He tried to put his arms around me, but I pushed him away. "Just, um, give me a second, would you?" I said.

"OK," he said, and sat down on the bean bag chair again. After a minute or so, he said, "Can I... get you something?"

"This room is so small," I said, knowing that it didn't answer his question, but not able to say anything else.

"Then let's go outside," he said. "Come on. I saw a nice porch swing out there. It looks romantic."

"I sat there with Maeve last night," I said, half-expecting him to make a joke about a hot lesbian make out session.

But all he said was, "Is it nice?"

I nodded mutely, still looking out of the window.

"Then let's go," he said. I heard the beads in the bean bag chair move, and then he was taking my hand gently. "Let's go sit outside."

I nodded again, not trusting myself to speak.

We moved quietly out through the hall, through the living room and kitchen, to the porch. Along the way, Adrian grabbed a throw blanket from a chair and when we got outside, he draped it around me like a huge shawl. We sat down together on the porch swing and for a while we didn't say anything. Adrian held my hand very loosely and stroked it with his thumb.

"I'm sorry I scared you," he said. "I don't really understand what happened but I'm sorry anyway."

"Don't apologize," I said. "I should be apologizing. I'm the one who keeps freaking out over nothing. Is it... is it still spirit darkness?"

"No," Adrian said. "Your aura is just... red in places. It's just regular good old fashioned human fear."

"It's nice out here," I said, and squeezed his hand. "I feel a little better."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad." He lifted my hand to his lips and kisses the back of my hand softly. Then for a while we just swung back and forth, looking at the stars. They were so much brighter here than they were in Palm Springs. Adrian must have noticed them too, because he asked me to point out some of the constellations.

"I love how you assume that I know them all," I said.

"Don't you?"

"Well, of course, but you can't just assume..."

He laughed. "Just go ahead and show off, Sage. You know you want to."

"Fine," I said, smiling, and pointed out Aquarius, Leo, Cassiopeia, and Andromeda. We talked softly and laughed together, and I started to feel more like myself, snuggling up into Adrian's arms. After a while, we just leaned close together, the blanket wrapped around both of us.

"We're going to find her," I murmured.

"I know," Adrian said. He took a deep breath and then turned and looked at me. "Ready to go back inside, maybe go to bed?" he asked. "I can try to reach Eddie, tell him what we learned."

"Good idea," I said, and kissed him on the cheek. "But I need to do a little more research before bed."

Adrian nodded. "Back to the office?" he asked. "Or should we just take the laptop to a different room?"

"Her modem doesn't broadcast too far away," I said. "And the firewall restricts the range further. But I'll be fine, as long as we keep the windows open."

"And as long as I keep my voice down," Adrian said.

I nodded, looking away.

We tiptoed back through the house to the office, and once there, I sat down at the desk while Adrian sat down on the beanbag chair and closed his eyes in concentration.

While he tried to "find" Eddie, I looked through internet maps for the best route down to San Simeon. I printed out a map of our route, then to be on the safe side, calculated some alternate routes that took us along side streets, in case the main highway was either blocked by traffic or unsafe due to police activity. While I was at it, I marked the locations of gas stations and rest stops, as well as long-term parking lots where it would be possible to steal additional cars. I was considering adding Starbucks locations as well when Adrian stirred.

"Sage," he murmured.

"Did you find Eddie?" I asked, very softly.

"He's asleep," Adrian said. "Just heading into REM." Adrian's speech was indistinct, and his eyes were half-closed. "Should I talk to him by myself, or do you want to come along?"

"I'll come with you," I said, and sat down in the beanbag chair with him, snuggling into his arms. "Though I'm not sure how long it'll take for me to fall asleep."

Adrian sat up a little, his eyes opening further. "I'll help you, if you want," he said. "I can use compulsion to make you fall asleep."

"Oh," I said. "Yeah. That."

"Only if you want," he said.

"It's a good idea," I said, and smiled as best I could. I reminded myself that Adrian had used compulsion on me in the past in a very enjoyable way. Was that only a week ago? It seemed an eternity. "Go ahead," I said, with slightly more conviction.

Adrian smiled sleepily but opened his eyes further and stared into mine. "Sleep, love," he said. "Go to sleep." An emerald green curtain encased me, and then...

And then I was in Adrian's living room in Palm Springs, Adrian by my side, Eddie a few feet away.

"Eddie," I said, and ran over to give him a hug. "Where are you?"

"Oh, hi, Syd," Eddie said, standing up to return my hug. "Good to see you, too."

"Hey, Castile," Adrian said, and saluted, military style.

"Ivashkov," Eddie said, nodding. "How you doin', man? You look much better."

"I'm fine now," Adrian said, taking my hand as he and I sat down on the ugly plaid couch.

"What happened?" Eddie asked, sitting down on the ugly recliner.

Adrian and I exchanged looks. "Um," I said. "Not a big deal."

"But you needed blood," Eddie said. "I mean, it was pretty bad, so unless you somehow... . "

I pointed to myself, and Eddie's eyes widened. "_Oh_," he said. His cheeks flushed slightly. "OK. I get it. But isn't Sydney's blood...? No, never mind, not important. Moving on." He coughed a few times, then said, "So am I right in assuming that this is a spirit dream?"

"Yep," Adrian said.

Eddie nodded, looking around. "Huh," he said. "Well. I'm glad you got in touch."

"Are you OK?" I asked.

Eddie sighed. "I had a bit of a run in with human authorities," he said. "Um, I was kind of... in custody."

"_Kind of_?" I repeated.

"OK, I was in custody," Eddie said. "In the back seat of a police van, on my way to the jail. I, uh, got away."

"How did you..." I said, and then stopped, shaking my head. "We'll have time to hear the story later." I smiled a little. "I bet it's a good story."

Eddie smiled too. He really had a nice smile, and I wished more people got a chance to see it. "Yeah," he said. "In a weird way, it was kind of fun. I mean, if I weren't so worried about the blood, and Jill, and everything, that is." He looked over at Adrian. "They took the blood back," he said. "I'm so sorry, man."

"It's OK," Adrian said. "I'm fine. Um, thanks a lot for trying."

"No problem," Eddie said, dryly.

"Well, where are you now?" I asked.

"Asleep in a car in a rest stop in Gold Run," Eddie said. "It wasn't locked so I just got into the backseat. I wanted to keep going but... I just needed a few hours to sleep. I'm still not up to full strength from the other day. God, I really hate getting shot, you know that?"

"Yeah," Adrian said, blandly. "I _give_ it zero stars. Negative stars, even. Would not recommend."

"I can probably make it back up to Maeve's place by mid-morning, depending on when I wake up," Eddie said. "I'm hoping for just after dawn. I can usually wake up when I mean to."

"You may not have to come up to Maeve's," I said. "Adrian and I have some news." I filled him in on the spirit dream with Gary, the elephant seal connection, and the satellite map research. Then I told him my theory on the forced Strigoi conversions and watched the color drain from Eddie's face.

"It's not going to happen," he said, his voice strained. "We'll get to her first. And any other Moroi they're holding, too, while we're at it. She's out in Big Sur? That isn't even really that far away. We'll get there by mid afternoon if we leave early."

I told Eddie about the route I'd planned, a six hour drive that included a stop at an early stage feeder in a nearby town. "Once Adrian's had a decent feeding," I added, "we can keep heading down to Big Sur... Though I'm not exactly sure what'll happen once we get there."

"Just human guards, right?" Eddie said.

I paused. "The guards are human," I said. "Though who knows who or what else might be there."

"Strigoi," Eddie said. "Gary said a few have 'gone over' or whatever he called it?"

I nodded.

Adrian spoke up. "If they're supposed to be guarding Strigoi," he said, "they're probably armed, and not just with guns – I mean, maybe flamethrowers, bazookas..." He gestured wildly. "... Rocket launchers? Nuclear missiles?"

"So we'll get some guns," Eddie said, with a tone of distaste. "I really fucking hate guns, have I mentioned that?"

"No," Adrian said, cheerfully. "It's never come up."

"So we'll get guns," I said.

Eddie nodded. "Have you ever used a gun?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. "Do you think that alchemists just carry guns for show?"

Eddie nodded again. "Adrian?"

"Do glue-guns count?" Adrian said.

"No," Eddie said.

"Well, I've never used a glue-gun either, so it doesn't matter," Adrian said.

Eddie sighed. "Fine," he said. "We'll have a quick lesson. Aiming shouldn't be a problem, at least, with your vision and reflexes."

We talked a little more about the specifics of the plan, and then I asked Eddie where we should meet up with him.

"If you can get to Gold Run, I can meet you at the rest station here. I'll be hanging out at a picnic table, most likely, unless it's raining."

"Shouldn't you be... hiding?" I asked.

"Nah," Eddie said. "Right before I went into the blood donation center, I took off my disguise ring. I figured that if I got caught I might as well look like the guy who's already wanted by the authorities. So then right after I got away from the cops, I put the ring back on and turned my jacket inside out and voila! Different guy. Half the reason I was able to escape."

Adrian started to laugh. "Castile, you really know how to run a heist," he said. "My hat's off to you."

"I'm glad it worked out," I said. "So, we'll see you in the morning, I guess. We'll leave as soon as Maeve can set us up on that crazy zipline thing."

Eddie grinned. "You're going to love it," he said. "It's like flying. And it saves like, two hours of walking, too."

"Zipline?" Adrian said.

I squeezed his hand. "You'll see in the morning," I said. Then we all got to our feet. "I'm really glad you're OK," I told Eddie.

"Thanks," Eddie said. He bit his lip. "Tell Maeve I said goodbye, OK? And that um, I hope I get to see her again someday. And that I'll remember what she said."

"I will," I said.

"Bye, Castile," Adrian said, offering Eddie one of those one armed guy hugs.

"See you," Eddie said.

And then the room around us dissolved like an Etch-a-Sketch drawing someone was shaking, and Adrian and I were back in the beanbag chair.

"Wow," I said, wiping a tiny bit of drool from my chin as discreetly as I could. "Can you imagine trying to do what we're doing without spirit dreams?"

"Sometimes, I imagine that," Adrian said, his voice still thick with sleep. "Life without spirit." He rubbed his eyes and yawned. "But then I wouldn't be of use in any way."

"I keep telling you," I said. "It isn't spirit that makes you amazing. You make spirit amazing."

"You make everything amazing," Adrian said. Awkwardly, he crawled out of the bean bag chair and scrambled to his feet. "OK, I'm going to go get ready for bed again. There's nothing more to do but sleep until a more reasonable hour and we might as well do so on our super comfortable mattress on the floor." He helped me stand up.

"I'll just close down the firewall again," I said. "I'll be right up."

Adrian kissed me on the cheek and then a few other places. A few minutes later he winked at me and tiptoed out into the hall and up the stairs. I spent a few minutes trying to pack up at least some of my alchemist supplies – not all of them, since I was planning of re-establishing the firewall in just a few hours – and then slipped upstairs as quietly as I could.

Adrian was waiting for me, sitting up in bed, leaning on his pillows. He had changed out of his clothes and had failed to put on any other clothes. The lights were out but the curtains were open wide, letting in bright moonlight.

"Oh," I breathed. "Hi."

"Ready for a good night's sleep?" he said.

"Yes," I said, and it came out as a sigh.

"Then come over here, my love," Adrian said. "I'm going to help you fall back asleep. But I'm not going to use any spirit shortcuts this time. That's cheating, don't you think?"

"Cheaters only cheat themselves," I said, as my jeans hit the ground.

"I wish we had more time," Adrian said. "I'd ask you to do that slowly."

"Next time," I said, and threw my shirt at him. "Once we're back in Palm Springs and our names are cleared."

"Or when the four of us are living in some hacienda in Mexico," Adrian said, pronouncing the words with an exaggerated accent.

I crawled over to him on the mattress, and he put his hands around my waist as I moved to straddle him, resting most of my weight on my knees. "Is this OK?" I asked. "Doesn't hurt you?"

"Not a chance," he said, shaking his head softly.

"I was thinking," I said, leaning in to kiss his neck. "You were badly injured. We should probably take it easy."

"I'm... fine... Sage," he breathed, lifting his chin up to give me better access.

"No, you're not," I said, giving the other side of his neck some attention. "You were badly injured defending me from a monster. I should take care of you."

"Oh?" he said. "I wouldn't mind that."

I ran a hand over him just below his waist, surprised at how quickly his body had responded to my kisses. He let out a soft breath, almost like a prayer. "I think you should let me do all the work," I said.

"Oh?" he said again. "I'm all for... women pursuing... any line of work they choose for themselves." He pulled a condom out from under the pillow. "This will be useful, don't you think?"

"Definitely," I said, and tried to take it from him.

"Hmm," he said, holding onto the condom. "I think you need to do a little more work first." And he cupped my face in his hands and kissed me until I could barely see straight. With his hands on my butt, he pulled my body upwards slightly, and I rose up on my knees, letting him kiss and caress my breasts. Then I sank back down gently while we kissed some more, and I began moving slowly back and forth, stroking him with my own body in a way that felt amazing for both of us.

When neither of us could wait another moment, we put the condom to its intended use, and I slid my body down to take him into me. We moved together, our eyes open, even when we kissed. His hands moved over my waist, my shoulders, my breasts, my face. I couldn't get enough of his skin, the feeling of his mouth on mine, the look in his eyes. My moment of delight came just moments before his, and then I continued moving back and forth until he gripped me tightly and let out a small, wordless cry of ecstasy.

Afterward, we lay in the moonlight, as Adrian stroked my hair. I knew that pretty soon I really would drift off into sleep, as Adrian had hinted I would. "That was the first time we did that without using magic at all," I said.

"Really?" Adrian said. "It was..." He let out a blissful sigh. "Wasn't it?"

"Yeah," I said, smiling widely. "It really was."

"I guess we make our own magic," Adrian said.

Under almost any other circumstances, a lady-killer line like that would have made me roll my eyes. But right now, in the moonlight, tucked in his arms, it just seemed like a statement of truth.


	61. II: Feeling Good, Accidentally

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 27: Feeling Good, Accidentally**

I opened one eye, then another, and waited for the information my various senses were taking in to be assembled and explained by my brain.

For that brief second before I knew where I was, I knew only that I was both blissfully content and deeply concerned, though I didn't know why. I was naked, but unconcerned. I was safe. I was warm. I was...

… looking at a penguin.

I blinked a few times as a stuffed penguin toy came into focus. At the same moment, a pile of memories crashed into my working memory. I was at Maeve's house in the mountains, in the attic, under an old patchwork quilt, on a mattress on the floor, where I had, just the night before, had sex with my boyfriend. Right. The pale light of early morning was working its way in through gaps in the curtains. There was a stuffed penguin on the floor near me, for some reason; apparently, my hosts like penguins, and who was I to judge them? The bed next to me was empty, but was still warm from Adrian's body, and I ran a hand over the smooth sheet and sniffed at the still-warm pillow case. It smelled like him – his hair, his skin, his essence.

As the memories came back together, I matched my emotions back to their sources. The blissful contentedness was due to Adrian, our life together, and our love, our impossible, inexplicable, perfectly weird love. And the deep concern was for Jill, and the danger we were going to face in trying to get her back. That was going to happen today, I realized. Today we were going to ride into danger, guns blazing, to get our friend back. It didn't seem real.

I rolled over, pulling the blanket over my head, making a mental list of what I'd have to do to get ready. Get dressed, pack, check the map again, say good-bye to Maeve... Say goodbye to the world, just in case.

"Sydney?"

I sat up, automatically clutching the blanket to my bare chest. "Adrian," I said, breaking into a grin. "Where'd you go?

Adrian was at the top of the stairs, holding a plate of sliced strawberries. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, and his hair looked accidentally messed up, rather than artfully so. "I woke up and figured I'd make myself useful," he said. "I put the coffee on to brew and then thought I'd bring you breakfast in bed. This" – and he held up the strawberry plate – "was the only thing I could find that was quick to nibble on, besides... you-know-what. But I can make you some eggs if you want."

I was struck with him: the way he looked in the light, the look in his eyes, the lines of his body, the hopeful note in his voice. How did I get so lucky to find someone so creative, so generous, so sexy, so kind? Suddenly, I wanted to make this moment count.

I stood up, dragging the blanket with me. I wrapped it around me like a long cloak, but not before Adrian got a good eyeful of my naked body. When I got close to him, he put the plate down on a small bookcase and I wrapped the blanket, and my arms, around him. I drew him close to me and he slipped his arms in under the blanket and put his hands on my bare waist. I could feel the waistband of his jeans against my stomach.

I leaned away from him and reached one hand out from the circle of blanket to grab a strawberry and pop it in my mouth. "It's good," I said. "Thanks."

"Yes," he said, looking down at me. Since we were inside the blanket together, there was nothing at all blocking his view of me. "Yes. It's good."

"I'm talking about the _strawberry_," I said.

"Right," he breathed, and grabbed another strawberry, which he slipped into my mouth. "Um, what's going on here?" he asked.

"I was just... thinking," I said, and fed him a strawberry.

"You're making it hard for me to think," Adrian said, and licked my finger.

"_Is_ it hard?" I asked. I unzipped his jeans and slipped one hand inside his boxers. "Oh," I said. "It _is_."

He drew in his breath slowly. "Wow," he said. "Um. What were you thinking about, exactly?"

"Whether anyone was awake yet," I said. "Whether we had time." I pushed his jeans down slightly so that I had better access to his body, then leaned in close to kiss his neck.

"No one's awake," he whispered, distracted. "Oh, God, Sydney, when you do that..."

"So we have time?" I murmured, and softly bit his collarbone.

"The coffee might... get old or burn... or something," Adrian said, with difficulty.

"We can always make more," I said, looking him in the eye.

Adrian smiled. "I love you, too," he said.

Then we fell down on the mattress in a heap of kisses and flailing limbs and tangled blankets, working together to get Adrian's clothes off of him. The night before, sex had seemed an almost metaphysical connection, but this morning, we couldn't stop laughing. We teased, we tickled, we shrieked a little. And afterward, we lay there, holding hands, both of us covered with a light sheen of sweat, staring up the slanted ceiling with big stupid grins on our faces.

"So..." Adrian said, when we'd gotten our breath back. "What brought _that_ on?"

"Just... just feeling good," I said. I turned to look at him. "I had a weird thought when I woke up."

"Which was?"

"It's hard to explain," I said, and rolled over onto my stomach. "Have you ever woken up and just not known where you were?"

"A few times," Adrian said. "Only for a second, though." As he spoke, he got up from the bed quickly and retrieved the plate of strawberries.

"Exactly," I said. "And then... it all comes back in a whoosh."

"Did that happen to you this morning?" he asked, putting the plate in between us on the mattress.

"It did," I said. "But you know what's funny?"

"Hmm?" he said, and squeezed my butt.

"Even before I remembered what was going on, I felt... happy," I said. "I mean, the other times I woke up not knowing where I was, I was in Russia, and even before I woke up all the way, I knew I was... if not depressed, exactly, just sort of... cold. Not happy. But this morning, I felt good. In that split-second before I remembered what was going on, I felt content and... I don't know, safe. Good. It's hard to explain. Like I remembered I felt good before I even remembered _why_. But you were the reason why." I frowned. "I feel like I'm not making sense."

"You are," Adrian said. "At least, I get it. It sounds pretty good to me." He ran a finger along my spine and back up again, slowly, as he spoke. "You're happy. I like it."

"I do too," I said. "For a split second, the only thing I knew was... happy."

Adrian offered me a strawberry slice, which I ate. "And this good feeling," he said. "It made you want to get down my pants?" He grinned.

"Something like that, yeah," I said.

"Then remind me to keep making you feel good," Adrian said, popping another strawberry in my mouth.

"I don't think I have to remind you," I said. "You do it by accident."

"That's what I _want_ you to think," Adrian said, moving the plate to the floor. "Really, I'm trying pretty hard." Then he rolled over on top of me and kissed my neck loudly, making me giggle again. "Oh, I love that giggle," he said. "I remember when you barely even smiled. It's so nice to hear you laugh."

"I've laughed more in the past few months than I had my whole life before then," I said.

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard," Adrian said. He kissed my lips, softly, and we gazed at each other. I was aware of the weight of his body, the feel of his skin against mine. He was so warm. I wondered how many condoms we had left, wondered if we had time... As if he had read my mind, Adrian said, "We don't have time to do this, Sage." His expression changed a little, darkened. "We, um, can't really lie here much longer, as much as I'd like to. We should start to get ready to go." He rolled off of me and I resisted the urge to pull him back.

"I know," I said. "We have to pack and check the map again and..."

"Have coffee," Adrian said. "We have to have coffee. One thing at a time, sweetheart."

"One thing at a time," I repeated.

Neither of us said what we were both thinking – that today was the day we were going to go try to save Jill, that we were going to be facing God knows what kind of harm. That this might have been the last time we'd ever make love. We got dressed quietly, and then Adrian gave me a big noisy kiss on the cheek. "Let's have a nice last morning at Chez Gothic Retreat, OK, sweetheart?" he said.

"Let's," I said, and nodded firmly.

We tiptoed down the stairs again, Adrian resting one hand on my shoulder. Then I went into the office to set up the firewall again while he went into the kitchen, muttering something about omelets. I had gotten the first few components re-established when Adrian came back holding a mug of coffee.

"Here you go," he said, placing the mug in front of me on the desk. "But unfortunately I can't make us breakfast at the moment, because there aren't any more eggs."

"There are probably some freshly-laid ones out in the chicken coop," I said.

Adrian made a face. "Probably," he said. "But that's not really my thing, Sage."

I laughed. "We'll leave it to Maeve, when she wakes up," I said. "For now, we can make do with strawberries and coffee."

"Ok," he said, and leaned down to give me a kiss on the cheek. "Want me to open the windows for you?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, thanks a lot," I said, offering him a grateful smile.

"I'm a big manly man," he said, opening one of the windows with a loud grunt. "I do big manly things for pretty lady."

"I like what you did for me about fifteen minutes ago," I said.

Adrian looked over at me and grinned. "Was that manly?" he asked.

"It was big, at least," I said.

"Holy shit," he said, laughing. "Really, Syd, you look so demure and then you're just..." He shook his head as he pulled the curtains open wide. "This should do the trick, right?" he asked, blinking in the bright sunlight.

Already the room felt brighter, lighter, and easier to be in. "It's great," I said. "Thanks."

"OK, having done my manly duties this morning, I'm going to take a shower." He came over to my side and began massaging my shoulders. "You don't want to join me?"

"We don't have time for that," I said.

"I know, but think of it. The hot water dripping down my body... I'll be all naked and wet... and all alone..."

"What a shame," I said. "You poor, lonely guy. Well, be sure not to think of me while you're in there."

"Oh no?" he said, and continued rubbing my shoulders.

"Nope," I said. "And don't think about me in the shower with you." I let my voice drop lower and lower. "Don't think about the two of us, naked and slippery and covered with suds..."

"Oh, fuck you," he said cheerfully, and bent down to kiss me soundly. By the time he was done I was losing my resolve a little. OK, more than a little. "Fine, Sage," he said, as he stood up again. "But we're taking a shower together someday, OK?"

"When this is all over," I said.

"When this is all over," he repeated. He grinned. "Now, I'm going to go take a suspiciously long and hot shower and I'll see you in a bit."

"Love you," I said, as he closed the door. Then, grinning to myself, I set about hacking into the local satellite camera again to get a look at the HQ facility in Big Sur by daylight.


	62. II: Spinning

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 28: Spinning**

After a soft knock, the door opened slowly and Adrian stepped into the office, a cloud of sweet, soapy-smelling air trailing behind him. He closed the door and moved to stand behind me, one hand on my shoulder, the other holding up the towel wrapped around his waist. "What did you come up with?" he asked, and leaned over to kiss my cheek.

I held up a stack of print-outs, turning to look up at him. "_These_ are satellite photos of the HQ compound in Big Sur, and _these_ are blueprints for the building."

"You got the blueprints?" Adrian said, amazed. "Fuckface and Co. filed blueprints for their super-secret evil compound?"

I shrugged. "It's not that surprising," I said. "These guys are ex-alchemists in the main, and if there is one thing alchemists understand, it's bureaucracy. Besides, what would be the point in ignoring that particular regulation? As long as no one knows what they're doing in the building, they might as well file the blueprints and avoid the risk of large fines."

Adrian nodded, not quite convinced. "Well, anyway, I knew you'd find something useful," he said. "Let me dry my hair so I don't drip all over it, ok?"

I blew him a kiss and watched him leave, half hoping he'd drop his towel. No such luck. When the door had closed again behind him, I went back to my task of collating the papers, then put each collated pile into an envelope. I labeled one with a drawing of a castle, for Eddie; one with a heart, for Adrian; one with a smiley face, for Jill; and one with a cross, for me. I wrote the word IMPORTANT on each envelope, then tucked each one closed. Then I nodded to myself, satisfied.

After I'd packed up again and taken a quick shower of my own, I threw on some more of the clothing that Adrian had stolen for me. This time, I chose a simple royal blue t-shirt with a square neckline that I thought showed off my collarbones nicely, and I put on the same jeans I'd been wearing the day before. Back downstairs, I found fresh coffee in the pot, and a really sexy Moroi guy sitting outside on the porch.

I went outside with a mug of coffee in my hand and a blanket around my shoulders and joined Adrian on the padded bench. We gave each other a quick kiss, and then he put his arm around me. We wrapped the blanket around both of us, a defense against the early morning chill, and I put my head on his shoulder. I noticed that the envelope marked with a heart was on the table and I smiled. He'd cracked my code.

"Good shower, Sage?" Adrian asked.

"Would have been better with you in it," I said.

"I told you so."

"So you did," I said, and took a long sip of my coffee, wrapping both hands around the warm ceramic mug. Adrian adjusted the blanket a little as it began to fall off my shoulders. Under the picnic table, his leg brushed against mine, and I looped my foot over his.

"Did I grab the right envelope?" Adrian asked.

"You did," I said.

"I figured the heart was for me," Adrian said. "Is the castle for Castile?"

"Of course."

"I figured," Adrian said. "Anyway, I looked at that stuff. You, my love, are a marvel."

I shrugged. "I work hard," I said.

"_I'll_ show you hard," Adrian growled, near my ear.

"Later, vampire," I said, and he laughed that lovely laugh and drew me a little closer.

Despite the chill, it was a beautiful morning. The sun was still low in the sky, creating long, violet shadows over the dew-covered grass. Max was lazily chasing a dried leaf around the deck, his shiny black fur dark against the blonde wood. The chickens were pecking around in their little yard, faintly clucking to themselves and each other, moving their heads like little feathered pistons. The ducks were swimming in their kiddie-pool pond, occasionally darting their heads below water to find some juicy morsel. I took in deep lungfulls of the damp air and let out a happy sigh, and Adrian brushed a kiss against my temple. For a while, we just watched Max playing, until a passing squirrel enticed the cat to lunge down the porch steps.

"He's purring," Adrian said. "I can hear him from here. I wonder how he catches a thing if he purrs so loudly when he hunts."

"I think he's drooling, too," I said.

"You're right," Adrian said. "The dumb furball," he added, affectionately.

"Hey, be nice," I said. "He stayed with you a lot of the day yesterday, helping to keep you warm."

Adrian smiled. "I know," he said. "I was so out of it, but he was purring away like crazy. The purring was sort of... calming. Gave me something to focus on besides the pain."

I paused, feeling my smile fade. "I'm sorry," I said.

"What for?"

"It took me so long to just... get over it and let you have some of my blood. I was afraid, but _you_ were in pain. I should have just... helped. Right away."

"You weren't _just_ afraid," Adrian said, taking hold of my hand. "You were _terrified_. A Moroi biting you was probably the stuff of your nightmares. I mean, I hope it wasn't nightmarish when it actually happened, but..."

"No," I said, smiling a little. "When it actually happened, it was really... beautiful."

"Good," he said. "I'm glad. And, seriously, I can't tell you how much it means to me that you did what you did." I nodded mutely, and Adrian said, "Hey, come on, Sydney, look at me." I looked up to see his smiling face and found myself smiling in return. "There is no reason to apologize," he said. "You did a kind and unselfish thing. I know that you were scared of it, and I know that it meant something to you, and I know that it wasn't easy for you. But you helped me a lot even _though_ you were scared, which is exactly the kind of thing you tend to do. So seriously, don't apologize."

I nodded. "OK," I said.

"And for the record," Adrian added. "You don't have to do it again. Got me? We'll try to find me a feeder or something when we get to Mexico or wherever we go next. This doesn't have to, like, change everything forever and ever."

"Ok," I said, again. "Cool. Um. Let's not talk about it anymore."

"If that's what you want," Adrian said. "Let's talk about... Castile getting arrested and breaking out of jail or whatever he did."

I laughed. "It shouldn't be funny," I said. "But it really is. Eddie up against a bunch of human cops and just sort of... taking them all down."

"And probably being kind of polite about it," Adrian said. "Do you really have something that'll help him get the handcuffs off his wrists?"

"Have you _met_ me?" I asked, primly.

Adrian laughed. "Sorry, sorry," he said. "That was a dumb question. I just get to thinking about you and handcuffs and lose my mind." He used his foot to stroke my leg.

"_What_ about me and handcuffs?" I asked.

"Anything," he said. "Just, the two words belong in the same sentence – Sydney and handcuffs." He grinned at me. "Wouldn't you like to handcuff me to the bed?"

"Ohhh," I said. "Um. Wow." My head began to spin – images of Adrian handcuffed to a bed, his silk sheets artfully draped over his body... And then I'd pull them off of him...

"'Course, you don't need handcuffs to make me helpless in front of you," he murmured by my ear. "Just do that blanket trick again, like you did today."

"Ohhh," I said again. "Right." I tried to think of a response, but my brain was otherwise occupied, and I found myself leaning forward to meet his lips. When we pulled apart, I was dizzy. "What is up with us today?" I said, nuzzling against him. "We have so much to worry about and we're just all..."

"Horny?"

"Well... yeah."

Adrian smiled. "How else should we be?"

"More cognizant, I guess," I said. "I mean, in a few hours, we're going to go up against the HQ again and we might... you know..."

"Nah," Adrian said. "You, me, and Eddie against a bunch of hired thugs? Shit, Eddie could probably take them all out by himself. This time tomorrow, the four of us will be drinking Coronas in Tijuana."

"I don't like beer," I said.

"We'll get you some tequila, then."

"Deal," I said. I moved to take another sip of my coffee and realized the mug was empty. "Ohh..."

Adrian saw the look on my face and got to his feet. "I'll get more," he said.

"You don't have to –" I said.

"Nope," Adrian said. "I'm accidentally making you feel good."

Moments later, he was back, carrying the pot of coffee, as well as a plate with a few pieces of the inevitable zucchini bread and some strawberries. I couldn't help but smile. It was getting ridiculous. And for some reason, here in this moment, with the greenhouse and chickens and every food source so close... I felt like it would be ok to keep eating the zucchini bread. Somewhere inside of me, a small voice wondered why it _wouldn't_ be, but it was faint as a tiny breeze, and was gone again in moments.

"Thanks," I said. "It looks good."

"These strawberries are crazy," Adrian said, as he munched on one. "I swear, I'm moving to the country. When all this is over, let's move to Aunt Tatiana's cabin and like, raise chickens, and grow strawberries and zucchini, and just... be hippies."

"I'll dye my hair purple," I said, taking a strawberry.

"It would match your aura," Adrian said, stroking my hair. "I bet it would look good."

"Thanks," I said.

As he moved away from me to pour the coffee, I saw some strands of blonde hair blow away from his fingers and fly away on the breeze. I found myself thinking about the tangled pile of hair that had been left on top of the drain at the end of my shower. Had I always lost that much hair on a daily basis? It was probably the stress of being on the run like this.

"In all seriousness," I said, hoping to distract Adrian from my hair. "I would really like to see Tatiana's cabin in real life some day."

"We'll go as soon as this is all over," Adrian said, putting the pot back down and handing me the mug. "But I have to warn you, it's all boarded up at the moment. If we went, we'd have to clean it up."

"I know," I said, taking a sip of the coffee. "Drop-cloths over all the furniture, dust everywhere."

"How did you know that?" Adrian asked, surprised.

"I... saw it," I said.

"When?" Adrian asked. His brow was creased in confusion.

"In a dream," I said, slowly. "Back at the HQ in Truckee, after you woke up. I kept exploring the compound, in the dream. I opened a door in the hallway and saw the cabin for a second before I tried again."

"And you saw it... covered in dust and drop-cloths? " Adrian said.

"Yes," I said.

"And I never told you that that's what it was looking like these days."

I shook my head 'no.' Both of us took a moment to assimilate that information.

"Hmm," Adrian said, munching on a bit of sweet bread. "Well, it's no weirder than the other weird stuff that happened."

"I guess," I said. I thought about the way I'd explored the HQ compound in a spirit dream, and how I'd broken locks and otherwise affected the real world, while in the dream. As glad as I was to be free, the magic involved was frightening.

I was struggling to articulate some of these thoughts when Zule, the crested jay, swooped down and landed on the porch fence, just a few feet from the table. He spread his wings and squawked at us in greeting.

"Well, hi," Adrian said. "You hungry, bird?" He broke off a few bits of bread and tossed them on the ground. Zule dove for them immediately.

"I wonder what happened to him," I said, looking at the bird's injured leg. It was twisted awkwardly, and the bird was putting no weight on it.

"It's a dangerous world for a little bird," Adrian said. "Right, bird? Tricky out there. You should stay here with Maeve. She'll feed you as much zucchini bread as you want." Zule finished his crumbs and squawked to let us know he wanted more. Chuckling a little, Adrian complied with the request. "Here you go, Greedy-beak. Enjoy."

"I wonder if zucchini bread is good for birds," I said.

"I think it's good for everyone," Adrian said. "It's good for humans, too, you know." And he handed me a slice.

"Well, if it's good for me..." I said, and took a small bite, then forced myself to take one more.

In a flurry of wings, Zule flew up a few feet and landed on the table. "Hi again," Adrian said. "You sure are a greedy little shit, aren't you?" The bird turned its head to the side and regarded us with bright black eyes, then hopped a little closer. "You think you can charm your way into more crumbs?" Adrian said. "I'm out of crumbs. And anyway, charm doesn't work on me, Bird-boy. I'm the king of charm."

I laughed. "I don't think your charm is working on him."

"No, he likes me," Adrian said. "Don't you, Greedy-beak?"

The bird turned his head to the side, then, to our complete surprise, hopped right onto Adrian's arm. Both of us froze, amazed, as the bird perched on his one good leg and squawked loudly again.

"Oh, wow," Adrian breathed. "Hi. Thanks. This is cool. Just please don't crap on me, OK?"

Zule continued to peer at Adrian, turning his head back and forth with quick, jerky movements, as if trying to understand Adrian's language.

"OK, dude," Adrian said, very softly. "I like you, you know that? I can do _one_ thing for you, as long as you don't tell anyone." And then, before I could say anything, the bird's leg untwisted in front of my eyes. I gasped. Zule, for his part, didn't seem to know what to think of the situation, either. He flew away and perched on the porch railing, putting his recently healed leg down very gingerly. I wondered if his leg had been hurting him this entire time, and if just now Adrian's magic had relieved the pain. I wondered if the bird understood at any level that this human had healed him.

"Adrian," I said, putting my hand on his arm. "That was a really nice thing to do. But... what if Maeve notices?"

Adrian shrugged. "She won't know it was me," he said. "She'll just think it got better on its own or something."

"She's too smart for that," I said. "She'll know something's up."

"She already knows something's up," Adrian said, smiling grimly. "The three of us are waaaay too weird and she's waaaaay too smart. She's just being polite."

"There's weird, and there's other-worldly," I said.

"I think Maeve's down with the other-worldly," Adrian said. "Listen, if it comes down to it, I can use compulsion to convince her that nothing's going on. I don't want to, and I probably won't have to, but... don't worry, sweetheart. It'll be fine." He smiled. "I don't think I'm going to get punished for doing a good deed."

"I hope not," I said.

"Anyway, what time is it?" he asked, tossing some more crumbs to the bird, who dove for them.

"Almost eight," I said. "I hope Maeve wakes up soon. We'll gain a lot of time taking the zip line, but only if we don't have to wait more than three hours for her to help us use it."

"OK, explain about this zip line thing," Adrian said, and I took a few minutes to describe it – how with the help of caribiners and a strong harness, we could slide over a wide ravine and get to the other side in a matter of moments. "That sounds fun," Adrian said, when I finished my explanation. "And on the other side of the zip line is the ranger station, where Maeve keeps her car?"

"Apparently," I said. "That's what she said yesterday."

"Maybe, if we ask really nicely, Maeve will offer to give us a ride all the way to Gold Run," Adrian said.

"We can't ask that of her," I said. "She's already helped us so much."

"I know," Adrian said, gently. "I hate to take advantage of her. But it's Jill's life on the line, Sydney. I'd rather look like an asshole and get there quickly than be nice and maybe get there too late."

"If we leave soon, we'll make it there in a few hours at most," I said. "It's not a problem. We can..."

"Wait," Adrian said, interrupting me, and turned his head to the door. I followed his gaze to see a man emerging from the house. I quickly shoved the envelope of blueprints under my shirt and then turned back to look at the stranger.

He was on the shorter side for a guy, about 5'5, and he had straight, shiny, jet black hair that came almost to his waist. He was of East Asian descent, with a friendly smile that seemed at odds with his clothing: loose black pants covered with buckles and studs, a black t-shirt with a skull and bones logo, and a collection of earrings, rings, necklaces, and other jewelry. His steps made almost no sound as he moved quickly across the porch to the table, calling "Good morning!"

"Good morning," Adrian and I chorused, and I reminded myself to smile.

"Hi," the man said, reaching us and extending his hand. "I'm Tony. You must be Sara, and you must be either Mason or Aaron...?" Now that he was closer, I could get a better sense of his age, and I placed him in his late 20s.

I shook his outstretched hand, returning his smile. "I'm Sara, yes," I said. "Nice to meet you. This is Aaron. My brother Mason is... still out somewhere."

Adrian offered his hand, as well, but as the two guys shook hands and exchanged hellos, I saw Adrian's face register shock for just a moment. As they disengaged, I saw Tony look at Adrian with a puzzled expression, then shake his head slightly.

"You have such a lovely home," I said quickly. "We've all been so lucky to come and spend time here. Really, it's been a life-saver to us, and I can't thank you enough."

"Glad we could help," Tony said. "Maeve says you guys have been good company."

"I hope we have," Adrian said. "I've been kind of out of it for the past two days, asleep in the attic."

"Yeah, Maeve said she gave you the attic room," Tony said, and I realized from his tone that there was something unusual about that. "I guess you're feeling better now?"

"I just needed some rest," Adrian said. "Nature's cure!"

"So," I said, before Tony could respond to Adrian's comment. "Maeve says you're a DJ. Have you performed at any discos in the Los Angeles area?"

Adrian smiled. "_Performed_," he said. "_Discos_."

"Well, what _do_ you call it?" I asked, peeved.

"Spinning, usually," Tony said, equitably. "But I understand what you meant. These days I mostly do long weekends and festivals here and there, but yeah, I've spun at a lot of clubs around LA – ever been to Malediction Society, at Monte Cristo?"

"Yes!" Adrian said. He almost jumped out of his chair. "I love that place!"

"Bunker?" Tony said. "A.V.?"

"Yes and yes," Adrian said. "You spin at all these places?"

"Sometimes," Tony said.

The two of them began happily chattering away about nightclubs, and I nodded and smiled a lot, putting in the occasional polite question. But all the while, I was wondering: what had shocked Adrian? Did he _know_ Tony from somewhere?

"Well," Tony said, when they'd exhausted the subject of Los Angeles nightclubs for the time being. "Let me go get Maeve. She's awake, but pretending to still be asleep." He laughed. "We were up late, I guess. But she'll want to come and have breakfast with you, especially if it's your last morning here."

"I think it is, yes," I said, regretfully. "But don't go to any trouble for us."

"Nah," Tony said, smiling and shaking his head. "It's no trouble. Maeve usually likes to get up early." And then he went back inside, again moving almost silently over the wooden porch planks.

The moment he was out of earshot, I leaned over to Adrian and said, "OK, what's the deal? Do you know him or something?"

"No," Adrian said. "But I might know his dad, or maybe his mom. He's a dhampir."

"You're sure?" I replied, astonished. I pulled the envelope out from under my shirt and began folding it into thirds.

"Positive," Adrian said, taking the envelope from my hands and putting it into his pocket.

"Is Maeve...?"

"No," Adrian said. "Definitely not. She's weird and she's wonderful, but she's human."

"I wonder if she knows what Tony is," I said, mostly to myself.

"Do you think it matters?" Adrian asked.

"Not in the sense that it's bad," I said. "But it's a part of his life, and I think it's relevant, if they're in a serious relationship."

"Something tells me that Maeve wouldn't mind one way or another," Adrian said.

"We don't know that," I said. "She's cool with us, sure, but not everyone can handle the existence of vampires."

Adrian shrugged. "I think she could," he said. "I wonder how she'd react to us without the disguises. We never even gave her a chance."

"I guess, but... It's better we had the disguises, don't you think? I mean, otherwise Tony would have known what you were in a second." I paused as a new idea struck me. "Do you think Tony noticed that you're a Moroi, even through the disguise?"

"I don't think so," Adrian said, dismissively. "Maybe he got a slightly weird vibe off of me, but that's all. His aura was pretty relaxed. I don't think he'd look that relaxed if he was wondering why a Moroi was on his front porch."

"Maeve said that Tony had a weird upbringing," I said. "I wonder if one of the reasons they're out here in the woods is that they're hiding from someone in the Moroi world."

"_I_ wonder how the three of us ended up at a house co-owned by a witch and a dhampir," Adrian said.

I shook my head. "Maeve's not a witch," I said. "She's a Wiccan. It's different."

"You say tomayto, I say tomahto," Adrian said.

"But..." I said, and then the porch door opened again. Adrian and I turned to wave at Maeve and Tony as they came to sit down with us. Seeing them next to each other, I realized that Tony was slightly shorter than Maeve. I also realized very quickly that they were completely crazy about each other. Tony's smile as he looked at her was almost embarrassingly tender, and she looked at him the way a child looks at a Christmas tree.

"Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiii," Maeve said, the word almost a yawn. She was dressed today in a black tank top and a deep purple crushed velvet skirt that almost reached the ground. "It's a beautiful morning, isn't it?" She and Tony sat down at the table with us, and he took her hand and held it on his lap.

"It is," Adrian enthused. "Syd – My sweetheart and I have just been enjoying the view for the past half hour or so."

"Glad to see you're feeling better," Maeve said. "That medicine Mason got for you must have really worked!" She looked around quickly. "Hey, where is he?"

"He, um, hasn't come back yet," I said. "Actually, we're going to leave pretty soon and go try to meet up with him."

"But..." Maeve said, looking at Adrian with confusion. "Where is he?"

"He's, um, in Gold Run," I said. "He got held up."

Tony was listening to this conversation with interest. "So your friend left to get you medicine, but didn't come back, but you're better anyway, and now you have to go find _him_?" he said, calmly.

"Yes," Adrian said, smiling brightly.

Maeve laughed. "Whatever," she said. "It's a nice day and it's all good. But I'm sad you guys are leaving!" She leaned over to Tony and gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Tony-Tony," she said, sweetly. "Let's have breakfast all together, ok-ok?"

He kissed her back. "Eggs?" he suggested.

"Yessssss," she enthused. "I'll go see what the ladies have been up to overnight." She set off for the chicken coop, her bare feet leaving silver marks on the dew-damp grass. She was singing "Eggs, eggs, eggs, eggs..."

"Aaron and I can pick some tomatoes or something from the greenhouse, if you want," I suggested.

"We can?" Adrian said, softly.

Tony smiled. "Thanks, but I got it," he said. "You two are our guests. You can just hang out a bit." He got up, stretching, and stepped lightly down the porch steps, heading for the greenhouse. I watched him, fascinated. Now that I knew he was a dhampir, I understood his almost uncanny grace.

"I guess Maeve just has a thing for dhampirs," Adrian said, under his breath.

I laughed softly. "Could be," I said. "Yeah, this might help explain her attraction to Eddie."

"Nothing else would," Adrian said, dryly, and I hit him lightly on the arm.

"Hey," I said. "Eddie's a good guy."

"Good guys don't get the girl," Adrian said, and I was ready to admonish him for perpetuating a stereotype when I realized he was only joking.

"_You_ got the girl," I said, softly.

"So I did," Adrian said, turning to look at me. "Am I a good guy?"

"I think you're very good," I said.

Adrian leaned over to kiss me, and I allowed myself a few moments of that before I pulled away. "We should go pack so we can leave right after breakfast."

"It'll take them at least fifteen, maybe twenty minutes, to collect everything and cook it all," Adrian said, near my ear. "We could get in another quickie and still have time to pack."

"Is this how you're always going to be after morning sex?" I asked.

"Probably," Adrian said.

"Noted," I said, and got to my feet.

"Wait," Adrian said, following me back into the house. "What does that mean? _Noted_?"

"It just means, 'noted,'" I said. "It means now I know."

"Now you know and..."

"And I'll be aware of it."

"And...?"

"We'll just have to have more morning sex," I said. "Whenever possible."

Adrian gave me one of those smiles that made me weak in the knees. "I love you," he said.

"I love you too," I said. "Now we have to go pack."

"I am really_, really,_ looking forward to tomorrow morning," Adrian said, putting his hands on my waist.

"Are you?" I said, as my hands slid up to his shoulders.

"So much," he said, and leaned forward to kiss me.

"Me too," I said, a second before our lips touched, and then I gave in and let myself kiss him for a minute or two before we reminded each other of all the work we had to get done.

So, while Maeve and Tony prepared breakfast for us, Adrian and I brought Eddie's stuff up to the attic and went through all the gear that we had. We were going to be traveling on foot for several miles, which meant that we had to leave some stuff behind. We spent a while sorting through everything until we finally had packed three relatively light weight backpacks with just a few necessities inside.

"I guess I can carry this extra bag for us until we get to Eddie," Adrian said, as we looked at the results of our effort. "You have your alchemist kit to worry about."

"It'll be fine," I said. "Just a few miles at worst."

"A few miles, she says," Adrian said. "A few miles." He sighed loudly. "Well, let's go eat while we still can. I need to fortify myself."

"I'm not really that hungry," I said, trying to hide my discomfort. Why were we always _eating_? "We had all those strawberries, and that bread..."

Adrian smiled at me. "They were good strawberries, weren't they?" he said.

"Very sweet," I said, meeting his eyes. Everything began to swim. "I... um..."

The world began to fall away, piece by piece. There was only the emerald green of his eyes. I swayed a little on my feet.

"What did you say?" Adrian asked, softly.

"Um," I said, confused. "I forget. What were we talking about?"

"Nothing much," Adrian said. "Anyway, should we go have breakfast?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "I'm starving!" As if to prove my point, my stomach rumbled.

Adrian laughed and we went down the stairs again together, bringing our bags with us. We helped Maeve and Tony get everything on the table outside, and then the four of us sat down together. Tony had made a fluffy omelet with diced vegetables, and there was also a large bowl of hot oatmeal with big chunks of dried apples in it.

"I'll say grace," Maeve said. "Unless you guys mind?" she added, looking at me and Adrian.

"Do it to it," Adrian said, and I nodded.

"Dear God," Maeve said. "Thanks for these delicious eggies and the tasty oatmeal. Thanks for bringing our new friends to the house, and thanks for everything else nice."

"Amen," I said.

"Amen," said Adrian.

"Amen," Tony said. "Let's eat!"

We dug in to the food. As we ate, Tony told us all about his gig in Germany and some stories from the road. Then Maeve told us all about the chickens – they all had names like Scrambles and Omelet – and their personalities. Apparently, none of the other chickens liked a certain hen named Yolker, so she tended to hang out with the ducks instead. I found myself wishing that Jill and Eddie were here with us, that the four of us could just hang out here for a week or two with Tony and Maeve, learning the chickens' names and swinging on the tire swing and just... doing nothing at all.

As if sensing my thoughts, Maeve said, "Are you sure you guys _have_ to leave today? You're welcome to stay another day or two."

"I wish we could stay," I said. "But we have to go meet Mason, and then we have to... um... get back on the trail."

"With your complete lack of camping gear," Maeve said. "And via Gold Run. Seems legit." She smiled.

"Well, the truth is," Adrian said, "that we have to go find that friend of ours. Our friend, um,..."

"Emily," I said.

"Ohhh," Maeve said, nodding. "I see."

"Find her?" Tony said. "Is she lost?"

"It's complicated," I said.

"How complicated can it be?" Tony asked, calmly. "Either she's lost or she's not."

"She's not _lost_," I said. "But she's in trouble and she needs our help."

"What kind of trouble?" Maeve asked.

"It's a long story," I said.

"I see," Maeve said. "I guess we'll leave it at that, then, shall we?"

"I... guess..." I said.

Maeve smiled and put her fork down. "Well, I'm stuffed," she said, putting her hand on her stomach. "That was delicious, Tony!"

"Yes, it was," I said, and Adrian chimed in, agreeing.

"Everyone done?" Tony asked. "Anyone want any more?""

"Couldn't eat another bite," said Adrian.

"Good," Tony said, standing up. "I'll bring these in. Refills on coffee?" And he began to stack up our plates.

I offered to help, but Tony refused, saying that I was a guest. He offered to get us coffee, and we all gratefully accepted the offer. He brought in the plates – opening the porch door with his foot – and moments later came out with yet more coffee.

"Oh, thank you, Tony-Tony," Maeve said, as Tony poured her another cup. "This will probably murder my stomach lining but I don't care."

"Do you have a problem with your stomach?" I asked.

"It's been messed up since I had that problem," Maeve said. "You know, the whole not-eating-thing I did for a while there. Anyway, I'll be OK."

"Yes, you will," Tony said, affectionately, as he continued to pour each of us a cup of coffee. He glanced at me. "Will you two be taking the zip line when you go?"

"If that's OK," I said.

"Of course," Tony said.

Maeve cast me a measuring look. "Have you ever zipped before, Sara?"

"No," I said. "But it looks like fun."

She nodded. "Hmm," she said. And then, before I could ask her what she meant by that, we were all distracted by the arrival of Zule, who swooped down and landed on a nearby fence post and squawked loudly.

"Hey, Zuley," Maeve said, cheerfully. "How are you, birdy-bird-bird?" The jay shrieked conversationally and spread out his wings, showing them off. "I know, right?" Maeve responded. "It's amazing out here this morning!" Then she peered closer. "Hey, your leg is better! How did that happen?" She looked around the table at us. "Do you guys see this? Yesterday his leg was all twisted up and now it's better."

"Maybe it's a different bird," I said, faintly.

"No way," she said. "That's Zuley. I recognize his eyebrow. What's going on?"

"I don't remember Zule being injured," Tony said.

"It happened while you were in Germany," Maeve said. "His leg was all twisted and bent. It looked really painful, poor guy."

"Maybe it was just a spasm or something, hon," Tony said.

"Maybe," Maeve said, doubtfully, then brightened. "Well, the important thing is that he's better."

"Where's our actual pet this morning?" Tony asked.

"Max?" Maeve said. "Yeah, where is he? Did you two see him this morning?"

"He was just here," I said. "Before you two woke up. He went over that way, hunting, I guess."

"Oh, we're trying to get him to stop that," Maeve said. "He's a little asshole when it comes to songbirds. I should go try to find him and drag him home. Hey, Zuley, have _you_ seen Maxie-cat this morning? _Have_ you, birdy bird bird? Have you seen him?"

Zule let out a squawk that actually sounded a bit like a meow and flew away. We watched as he soared over to the chicken coop and then backwinged down for a landing on its roof.

"Guess not," I said.

"He's looking for him," Maeve said, unconcerned. "They're friends. Sort of."

"In Maeve's world, everyone is friends," Tony said.

"That's why you love me," Maeve said, and stuck out her tongue at him.

"I'm just in it for the zucchini bread," Tony said.

"That's fine," Maeve said. "I think that's fine."

Tony stuck his tongue out at her, then blew her a kiss. His gaze roamed over the backyard, and then he turned to us, confused. "Has someone been working in the garden?" he asked. "It looks like someone did some serious weeding in there."

"Oh yeah," Maeve said. "That was Mason, bless his heart."

"Mason?" Tony said. "The one you were telling me about?" If Tony had had cat ears, they would have been pointing straight up in the air.

"Yes," Maeve said, calmly.

"The mysterious friend who got 'held up' in Gold Run?" he added, glancing at us. Tony didn't actually use air quotes, but his tone implied it.

Adrian spoke up quickly. "Maeve's been so nice to all of us," he said. "I think Mason appreciated it. And anyway he's trying to keep his mind off of how much he misses his girlfriend. Who he totally loves. So that's probably why he weeded the lawn. He likes weeding, anyway, doesn't he, sweetheart?"

"Oh, yeah," I said. "He used to help our parents out in the garden a lot when we were growing up."

"That looks like several hours of hard work," Tony said, looking at the garden. "He must really like gardening. Or something."

Maeve laughed. "Tony, love, your jealousy is showing." She took Tony's hand and kissed it. "I love _you_, you silly man. Don't worry about Mason."

Tony smiled sheepishly. "Sorry," he said.

"It's ok," Maeve said. "I'll take it as a compliment, and we can leave it at that –"

Her words were cut off by a horrible sound coming from the other side of the chicken coop – a sound somewhere between a howl and a scream. Tony was on his feet in a flash, one hand placed protectively on Maeve's shoulder, while Adrian and I reached for each other.

"Tony," Maeve whispered, grabbing his arm and looking up at him. "That was _Maxie_."

In a flash, Tony took off running across the lawn, his long hair streaming behind him, and darted behind the chicken coop.

"Oh my goddess," Maeve whispered, and fell silent again.

We heard Tony shouting, "Get out of here!" Then, after another few tense moments, he re-appeared from behind the chicken coop, carrying something in his arms.

As Tony got closer, I could see that he was carrying a bundle of black fur, streaked all over with bright red. My heart caught in my throat, and Maeve let out a sort of low cry and got to her feet, anxiously pulling at her long purple hair. Tony deposited the injured cat on a chair near us and Maeve knelt down near it, letting out a choked, high pitched noise.

The cat had been attacked by some sort of animal, we could all tell that. There were horrible long, bloody gashes in his fur, and part of his tail had been torn off. He tried to raise his head to look at Maeve but seemed unable to do so, his mouth opening and closing silently.

"Oh," I whispered, tears flooding my eyes. "Oh, Maeve, I'm so sorry."

"Maxie," she whispered. She looked up at us and I could see tears streaming down her cheeks. "I got him when I was just a kid," she whispered. "He's my oldest friend." Then she buried her face in the cat's bloody fur, sobbing.

Tony put a hand on her shoulder. "I'm getting the carrier," he said, tersely. "We'll take him to Dr. Chensworth."

Maeve looked up. "Oh, Tony, don't..." she said. But Tony was already running back into the house. She looked at me and Adrian and said, "It's too late. There's nothing anyone can do for him." She leaned down and kissed Max's blood-streaked head. "Poor baby," she said. "I'm going to stay with you until the end. OK, baby? You're not going to go alone."

"Should I tell Tony to come back?" I murmured, feeling lost.

"He needs to do something to make himself feel useful," she said, faintly. Then her voice took on the sweet tone she used with the cat. "Right, Maxie?" she cooed, and gulped back a sob. Hesitantly, she stroked the cat's cheek, finding one spot that didn't seem to be injured. "Tony needs to go and feel useful. But I'm going to stay with you." She sniffed loudly and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "It's OK, you know," she said, in an increasingly shaky voice. "You can go when you're ready. I wish you could stay, but I understand why you... you..." Her voice cracked. "Why you need to _go_," she managed.

Adrian and I looked at each other. He raised his eyebrows in a question. I shook my head miserably and looked away. We couldn't do what he was thinking. It would risk our identity and might put our own lives in danger. We couldn't do that.

"I'll wait right here until you go, baby," Maeve went on. She seemed to have forgotten that Adrian and I were there. "You wait until you're ready to go up into the sky. But I'll find a beautiful place to put your body when you don't need it anymore. And I'll never forget you. Because..." She used her skirt to wipe the tears that were flooding down her face. "Because you've been _an awesome cat_." Then she began crooning a sort of song, punctuated by occasional loud sniffles. "Maxie-cat," she sang. "Maxie-cat, I love you..."

Adrian reached for my hand. Again, he looked at me urgently. I tried to look away from him and my eyes fell on the cat's face. Max's eyes were wide with pain and fright. He wasn't making a sound. I knew that when animals were in pain, they didn't cry out for fear of attracting predators. But for some reason, I saw the animal as stoic, trying to hide his pain out of love for Maeve. Then Maeve let out one more miserable sob and my resolve melted. I turned to encourage Adrian to go ahead but realized that he was already stepping forward.

He bent down by Maeve's side, facing the cat. "Maeve," he murmured. "Let me help."

"Don't touch him," Maeve said, suddenly wary. She placed her body in between Adrian and the cat, protectively. "Don't you _dare_ touch him."

"I'm not going to hurt him," Adrian said. "I'm going to help him."

"You can't help him," Maeve said. "Don't you see how badly he's been hurt? Just let me stay with him. Animals know how to let go. I just want him to feel loved right now."

"I'm sure he feels loved," Adrian said. "Stay right here with him while I help him."

"What are you going to do?" Maeve asked, in a sob. "Kill him?"

"Of course not," Adrian said. "I'm going to make him better."

"That's impossible," Maeve said.

"I know," Adrian said. "But I'm going to do it anyway."

"No," Maeve said. She swatted Adrian's hand away and placed her body between him and the cat. "Don't touch him. He's been through enough."

"Maeve," I said softly, and she looked up at me, angry tears shining in her eyes. "He's the one who healed Zule," I said.

Maeve stared, first at me and then at Adrian. "You did that?" she whispered.

"Yes," Adrian said. There was something very gentle and reassuring in just that one syllable.

"How?"

"Let me just help Max quickly before it's too late," Adrian said. "If you just trust me, it'll be OK."

"Will it hurt him?" Maeve whispered.

"Not at all," Adrian said. "I'm just going to pet his head. Like this..." Tentatively, he reached out and touched the top of the animal's head. With him and Maeve blocking my view, I couldn't see much of the cat, but I could see Adrian's back muscles tense as he put all his concentration into his healing magic. Then he leaned back, away from the chair. "I think that should do it," he said. "Right, cat? You feel better now?"

Immediately, Max jumped down to the ground and began licking his bloody fur. He wasn't really interested in magical healing; he was more concerned with the state of his grooming.

Maeve was completely still for a moment, and then let out a loud happy shriek. She threw her arms around Adrian,still squealing delightedly. Then she picked up the cat, pulling him onto her lap and kissing him. She put one arm around Adrian, and kissed his cheek. "Sara," she said, gesturing. "Come here!"

I did as she requested, kneeling down by her, and she put her arms around me and Adrian, pulling us into a four-way-embrace with her and the cat, who began to purr loudly.

The screen door slammed and Tony came back running back out, cat carrier in hand. "Get him in here and..." he said, and trailed off. "Um... What's happening?"

Adrian and I stood up quickly and backed away from Maeve and the cat, letting Tony see the cat's condition.

"Tony," Maeve said. "Maxie's OK. See? He's all better. This blood is just from before – it comes right off." She began cleaning the blood off of the cat's fur with her skirt.

"How did this happen?" Tony asked. He was looking back and forth at me and Adrian warily. Something in his stance reminded me forcefully of Eddie.

"Aaron is good with animals," I said. "The injuries weren't as severe as they first looked, once we cleaned off some of the blood." I was inventing wildly, keeping the same calm, professional tone. I grabbed some napkins from the table and began dabbing at the blood that still soaked parts of the cat's fur. "There you go, kitty," I said, awkwardly. "Um, good kitty. See? I'm cleaning you up?"

Max rolled over on his back to show off his stomach, delighted at all the attention. He purred even louder as Maeve rubbed at his white stomach fur, cooing.

"I still don't understand," Tony said. "Exactly how did Aaron help the cat? His injuries were extremely serious."

"It was _magic_," Maeve said. She got to her feet, the cat in her arms, and began dancing around the porch with him. "Maxie," she cooed. The cat let himself be jiggled in her arms like a baby, with air of supreme patience. "Are you the most wonderful kitty in the world?" Maeve said. "_Could_ you be?" Then she looked over at Adrian. "And you!" she added. Tucking the cat into the crook of one arm, she threw her other arm around my boyfriend. "You saved him!" she said, and peppered Adrian's face with kisses.

Adrian laughed. "Happy to help," he said. "You've been really nice to us."

"No, but this is _everything_," Maeve said. "There aren't enough 'thank you's in the _world_ for this."

Adrian looked faintly uncomfortable. "Don't worry about it," he said. "He's a nice cat."

"He's the best cat," Maeve said. "I owe you mega super duper ultra big time. Anything you want, just ask, Aaron."

Max chose that moment to claw his way free of Maeve's embrace. He leaped out of her arms and began attending to his rumpled coat again. There were streaks of blood on Maeve's clothes, but Max was looking more or less clean again.

"Maeve," I said. "You should go put that skirt into some cool water before the stain sets. I have some good, um, cleaning compound to put on blood stains if you need it."

"Oh, of course you do," she said, laughing. "I'm not that worried, Sara, but thanks." She picked the cat up again and sat down on one of the chairs, stroking his head. He relaxed after a moment and began to purr again.

Tony was still looking at Adrian. "You can heal animals?" Tony said. "What about people?"

"People too," Adrian said. "It's not unusual." He said the last three words in a soft, soothing voice, and I realized he was using compulsion.

"Oh," Tony said. "You're right, it's not... It's not..." He shook his head then, violently, as if trying to shake off a bug. "No," he said. "It's completely fucking bizarre. What is going _on_ here?"

It was our luck that Tony would be one of those people who were difficult to compel. Adrian said, in the same soothing tone, "The most important thing is that Maeve is happy."

"Yes," Tony said, slowly. "Maeve's... happy..." Then he shook his head again. "No, this is fucked up." Tony peered at him, blinking and rubbing his eyes. "What _is_ it with you?" he said. "You look... different. Every time I look at you, you look different."

"I get that a lot," Adrian said.

"Look, let's not worry about this," I said. "Aaron and I were just going to go. We'll get our things and I'm sure we can figure out the zipline on our own..."

"Maeve," Tony said, his words tight and clipped. "Get in the house."

"Why?" Maeve asked, unconcerned. She was still cuddling the cat, muttering, "_Who's_ the best kitty in the world? _You_ are! _You're _the best kitty in the world!"

"These people aren't who they're pretending to be," Tony said. "_This_ one here is a Moroi. I don't know what _she_ is but I'm pretty sure she's not your average through-hiker."

"Tony," I said, in my most pleasant professional tone. "Don't worry about us. I can appreciate your concern, but I assure you that we mean you no harm –"

"Shut up," he said, interrupting me. He strode quickly to the center of the porch, effectively placing his body between Adrian and Maeve. He pointed a finger at Adrian. "Who are you, and who sent you here?"


	63. II: Tandem Flight

_A/N: If you're having a hard time understanding what a zipline is, there are some videos up on youtube of it. I once did one in West Virginia at this place called "Adventures in the Gorge" – it's amazing! _

**Book II**

**Chapter 48: Tandem Flight**

Maeve put the cat down and took a few steps over to Tony. "Darling," she said, taking his hand. "Of _course_ they're not who they say they are. _That's_ been obvious from the start. But it doesn't necessarily follow that they're dangerous."

"Get in the house, Maeve," Tony repeated.

"I love the protective thing, sweetie, when it's warranted," Maeve said. "But these two are _so_ not the enemy."

As if to prove Maeve's point, Max stepped daintily over and rubbed his furry head against Adrian's leg. Adrian reached down to pet the cat, whose purr was as loud as a lawnmower. Cats might not understand magical healing, but Max certainly knew who his friends were.

"They lied about everything," Tony said, his gaze moving from me to Adrian and back again.

"They only lied about their names," Maeve said.

"And their faces," Tony said. "And their _species_."

"OK, their names and faces and species," Maeve said. "And they said they were through-hikers, which they're obviously not. And, um, Sara, you aren't really Mason's sister, are you?"

"No, I'm not," I said.

"Right," Maeve said, nodding. "I didn't think so. But it's _like_ you are, right?"

"Almost," I said.

She nodded again. "Right," she said. "So they lied about a few things. But I think they were honest about everything else. Like, the stuff that matters."

"Maeve," Tony said. "We don't know who sent them or why they're lying or what they're after... ."

"We're not _after_ anything," I said. "We needed to rest a bit, and now we have, and now we really just want to leave. So let us just go and get out of your hair. You'll never see us or hear from us again."

"Well, _that_ would be a bummer," Maeve said.

"It kinda would, wouldn't it?" Adrian said.

Tony ignored this exchange. "You," he said, pointing at me. "What are _you_?"

"Human," I said. "Alchemist."

"You turn lead into gold?" Tony said, incredulously.

"Not regularly," I said, and Adrian and I exchanged glances. A dhampir who didn't know what an alchemist was?

"But you're human?" Tony said, in that same sharp tone.

"One hundred percent," I said.

"Which is more human than you, buddy," Adrian said – unwisely, I thought.

"Shut up," Tony said. "You still haven't explained why you came out here under false pretenses..."

"We have explained," I said. "Our being here has nothing to do with you, and we don't want to do any harm to you or to Maeve. We just needed a place to rest and heal. But we're better now, so we can just leave, and then you don't have to worry any more. We need to leave anyway. We have to go help our friend."

"Mason?" Maeve asked.

"Emily," I said.

"The one who isn't lost," Tony said.

"Yes," I said.

"You're not leaving until you explain who you are," Tony said. "Who knows who you're planning to report to when you go?"

"We won't tell anyone anything about you," I said.

"And I don't want to deal with Moroi compulsion," Tony went on, ignoring my comment. "So. _You, _human girl, can explain what's going on to me, while _you_ –" he pointed at Adrian "–can go wait somewhere else."

"That works out perfectly," Maeve said. "Aaron, come on, I wanted to talk to you about something anyway." She gestured for Adrian to follow her into the house.

"Maeve, I don't want you alone with him," Tony said.

"Oh, hush," Maeve said. "If they'd wanted to hurt me, they would have done so days ago, when we were alone. And they wouldn't have saved Maxie. You're freaking out over nothing, darling."

"Fine," Tony said. "Just get _him_ away from me while I talk to the girl."

Adrian looked over at me. "What do you think, sweetheart?" he said. "You'll be alright out here?"

Compared to the Wheldon family, Tony didn't seem scary at all. "I'll be fine," I said.

Adrian nodded, then turned back to Maeve and said, "OK, you have a deal."

"Great," Maeve said. "Come on, then." She studied him as he cautiously stepped around Tony to reach her. "So your name isn't really Aaron?" she asked.

"Nope," Adrian said.

"Can I call you something else?" Maeve asked. "You don't _seem_ like an Aaron."

"You can call me anything you want," Adrian said.

"How about... Pumpkin?" Maeve suggested, a twinkle in her eye.

"I would be honored if you called me Pumpkin," Adrian said, and held out his arm to her.

She linked her arm through his. "Come on, Pumpkin," she said, as she marched them to the kitchen door, Max trailing behind them. "If you're very good," Maeve said to Adrian, "I'll let you lick the bowl."

"I have no idea what's going on, but I like the sound of it very much," Adrian said.

"Maeve!" Tony called, just as they reached the house.

"Hmm?" She stopped in the doorway and turned to look behind her. Adrian waited as well.

"Don't let him bite you," Tony said. Gone was the over-protective aggressor. In his place was an anxious boyfriend.

Adrian rolled his eyes and went into the house without a word. Maeve, however, just smiled. "Wasn't planning on it," she said. "You're the only one who bites me, baby. Well, and sometimes Maxie, the little asshole." She blew Tony a kiss and went inside.

The door closed behind them and Tony and I were alone on the deck. Now that Adrian was out of our line of sight, Tony seemed to relax a little. "Sit down," he said, gesturing to the table and chairs.

"I'd prefer to stand," I said.

"Fine," he said, and sat down where he'd been sitting before. He took a sip of his coffee, then said, "Tell me the full story – who you all are, why you're here, what's wrong with your friend..."

"It's better you don't know all that," I said.

"Shouldn't I be the judge of that?"

"You can't be the judge of it because you don't know," I said. "If you knew, you would be unable to decide, 'hmmm, I'm better off not knowing this.' That's not how memory works."

Tony regarded me for a long moment. "What's an alchemist?" he asked finally.

"How does a dhampir not know about alchemists?"

"How do you know I'm a dhampir?"

"The same way you knew my friend is a Moroi," I said.

"Are you going to tell me what an alchemist is, or not?"

I sighed and then gave him a brief explanation of the alchemist role in the Moroi world, adding, "I guess you haven't spent a lot of time with your people if you don't know this."

"They're not _my_ people," he said. "Didn't you notice?" He turned in his seat and lifted up his long hair so that I could see the back of his neck. "I don't have any of their weird tattoos." He turned back to face me. "It's all so primitive – get a bunch of tattoos to prove to people that you're essentially a slave? No way. Not me."

"I guess I can see your perspective," I said. "The Moroi have a habit of treating dhampirs like second class citizens. But still – aren't you at all curious about that world? You have Moroi and dhampir family... ."

"My father is a Moroi," Tony said. "And I bet I have a bunch of dhampir half-siblings, the way he gets around. But what has he done for me besides the sperm donation? Not a thing. He hurt my mother in every way possible and completely ignored me for most of my life."

"I'm sorry," I said. "Honestly, I am."

"It's not your fault," Tony said. "It's the fault of that sleazy Moroi who got my mother addicted to the bite." He shook his head bitterly. "She was one of the first people in our family to go to college after my grandparents came here from Korea. And then she ends up a feeder to some Moroi who figures it's easier to have a human girlfriend and get all his needs met in one place."

"Wait," I said. "Your mother is human?"

"Of course," Tony said.

I took a moment to digest that. "It's not common for that sort of relationship to spring up between a human and a Moroi," I said, finally.

"It must seem common to _you_," Tony said. "Considering who your boyfriend is."

"My relationship is very important to me," I said. "But I don't kid myself that it's standard, or that most people would accept it."

"Rightfully so," Tony said. "It's not healthy, you know. It's not good. Do you let him bite you?"

I folded my hands primly. "That isn't what our relationship is about," I said. "Not that it is any of your business."

"Don't let him bite you," Tony said. "He's going to keep asking until you let him, but don't let him."

"You don't know anything about him, or about us," I said. "Please keep your opinions on this matter to yourself."

"It isn't just an opinion," Tony said. "It's a fact. I know Moroi. I know what my so-called father did to my mother. The bite... It messed my mother up really badly. She..." He shook his head. "Sometimes, I wonder what her life would have been like if that... that... that monster hadn't come along. She would have gotten a job, had a normal life."

"But you wouldn't exist," I said.

"That's fine," Tony said. "I wouldn't know the difference. Don't get me wrong – I like being alive, and I try to enjoy every day, but... . Sometimes I wonder." He sighed. "And you know the best part?"

"No," I said.

"He ditches her when she's pregnant, right? And I grow up not knowing a thing about him. Then when I'm 18, 19 years old, whatever, my father comes and finds me. Says he didn't even know I existed, asks if I want to come live with him. Of course, that's bullshit. He knew my mom was pregnant when he left her. But I don't know that, I'm young, I don't know much, I'm excited to get to know the guy. Especially since by then my mother was... well, not really doing so well. So I take him up on his offer, and..." He trailed off.

"What happened?" I asked, softly.

"It turns out he just wants me to be a bodyguard for him," Tony said. "Well, him, his Moroi wife, and my Moroi half-brother and half-sister. He doesn't really want me to be part of the family, doesn't want me to call him 'Dad,' doesn't even want to acknowledge the relationship in front of his other kids. But he wants to offer me a salary and room and board. And lots of additional training. Lucky me, right?" He stared at me, daring me to disagree, his jaw set firmly in an angry line.

"That was completely awful of him," I said. "It was awful and unfeeling and you have every right to be angry and hurt."

"I'm not hurt," Tony said. "I don't care."

I looked at Tony closely. There was anger in his expression, but pain as well. It hurt to be rejected like that by a father. I knew that very well. "So let me guess," I said. "You thought that my friends and I worked for your father?"

"I thought there was a good chance," Tony said. "He's done that before. He's gone looking for me several times. Apparently, good bodyguards are hard to come by. I almost wish I hadn't trained in Tae Kwan Do but... my mother always encouraged me to do it." He shrugged. "I was good at most sports, growing up, and it was kind of cool to do something ethnically Korean, even if I can't really speak the language or anything like that. Something to connect me to my mom's experience. And I didn't know that I was anything other than human, so I didn't understand why I was so much stronger and faster than basically everyone I knew. Tae Kwan Do was such a release for me, and I loved being able to defend myself and my mom."

"Defend yourselves? From what?"

"That's not important."

"From Strigoi?" I asked.

Tony looked away. "I only saw one once," he said. "I don't want to see one again."

"I feel the same way," I said. "Do they... come out here, to the woods?"

"No," he said. "Where would they hide during the day? Besides, they like places with lots of people. But just in case, Maeve redoes the wards every few weeks. She does a good job with them, too." He smiled with pride. "So, no, we don't get Strigoi out here. But the wards won't keep away a human or a dhampir who my father sends to come get me. Or a Moroi and an alchemist for that matter."

"We weren't sent by your father, Tony," I said.

Tony leaned back in the chair and stared at the sky. "I guess not," he said. "If you were really hired thugs, you probably would have already kidnapped Maeve or something like that."

"I don't know what hired thugs do and don't do," I said. "I don't want to be rude, because Maeve has done so much for us, but it's imperative that we leave soon. That's all that matters to me."

"I –" Tony said, but was interrupted when Maeve stuck her head out the door.

"Hey, Sara, or whatever your name is?" she called.

"Yes?" I answered.

"You OK with leaving in 20 minutes or so? I just have to get changed and stuff before we go."

"_We_?" Tony repeated.

"Well, yeah," Maeve said. "I'm driving them to Gold Run."

I put my hand to my mouth in surprise.

"Maeve..." Tony said, annoyed.

"Hush up, darling," Maeve said. "My mind is made up."

"Thank you so much, Maeve," I said. "And yes, 20 minutes is fine."

"OK," she said, nodding. "The muffins will be ready in 15." She blew a kiss to Tony and closed the door behind her.

"Where are you going after Gold Run?" Tony asked.

"Far," I said.

"You have to go find your other friend?"

"Yes."

"She in trouble?"

I paused, then said, "Yes."

"Bad?"

"Very."

Tony nodded. "Who are you going up against?" he asked. "Humans, or...?"

"Humans, mostly," I said.

"Mostly?"

"I'm not sure what exactly else," I said.

"Strigoi?" Tony asked.

"Maybe."

He nodded again. "I see," he said.

"It's OK," I said. "Mason is a trained Guardian, and Aaron and I aren't without our own defenses. We'll probably be fine."

"I'm not going to go with you," Tony said.

"I wasn't asking you to go," I said, surprised.

"Just so we're clear," Tony said.

"We're clear," I said. "Really. I would never ask that of you."

Tony took a deep breath, got up, and stretched. "Let's see what I can dig up to help, though," he said, and went inside without another word, carrying the empty coffee mugs in with him.

I took a moment to collect my thoughts. It had been disconcerting to be reminded of the way that most Moroi treated humans. But Adrian was nothing like Tony's father, or even my own father. I took a few deep breaths, telling myself that this was a problem for another day, then went inside.

The kitchen smelled of apples and cinnamon. Max was in the corner, eating tuna straight out of a can and purring loudly, and Adrian was sitting at the table, happily using his fingers to eat what was left in a mixing bowl.

"Hey, Sage," he said. He ran his finger through a line of batter on the edge of the bowl and held up his finger for me. I licked the tip of his finger, tasting sweet, apple-y dough. "She made us apple muffins," he said. He pulled me gently down into his lap, and I sat down "side-saddle," my body turned perpendicular to his. "They're going to be ready when that timer goes off," he added, and pointed to a timer that showed twelve minutes remaining. "You should have seen it, Sage. She was whipping around the room, cracking eggs one handed, measuring flour with a water glass, I don't know. She poured it all in a bowl, stirred in some dried apples, poured the batter in the muffin baking thingy, and... voila!"

"Magical," I said, smiling.

"Completely," Adrian said.

I glanced around, trying to see into the living room without getting up. "Where'd she and Tony go?" I asked.

"She's in the shower, I think," Adrian said. "And Tony, after he tried to murder me with his eyes, went after her." He tilted his head, listening. "They're just talking, though. Talking about us." He ran a finger along my bottom lip. "You OK, Sydney?" he asked, his voice soft.

"I'm OK," I said.

"What'd you tell him?"

"Just the basics," I said. "He thought that we were working for his father. I set him straight."

"His father?" Adrian repeated. "I guess his father's a Moroi?"

"And his mother is a human," I said.

Adrian's eyes widened. "Wow," he said. "That's crazy." He shook his head slightly, thinking about it, then looked back at me. "How'd you leave it?"

"I think... I think we've got it sorted out now," I said. "I mean, more or less." I glanced at the timer. "Are you all ready to go?"

"Basically," Adrian said. "As ready as I'll ever be." He rested his head against mine.

"Me too," I said.

We heard the door to the bathroom open, the murmuring of voices, and footsteps moving through the hallway. A door opened and closed again.

"I can't believe Maeve is going to drive us to Gold Run," I said. "It's going to save us so much time."

"Right?" Adrian said. "This time tomorrow, we'll be in Mexico with Jill having a party."

"Possibly," I said, though I didn't really think that Mexico was where we'd be ending up. "So," I added. "What did you and Maeve talk about?"

I felt Adrian's body tense under me. "Nothing much," he said, casually. "Like... we talked about Tony and um, her apple trees... and um, how much she likes you... Nothing major."

"Is that all?" I asked, wondering what had made him uncomfortable. I had asked a pretty innocent question – hadn't I?

"That's all," Adrian said, and gave me a kiss.

I felt certain that he was lying, but didn't really want to press the point. Instead, I suggested that we get up and check for anything we may have forgotten when we packed. After another kiss or two, that's what we did. Adrian checked all through the attic, while I checked the office, kitchen, living room, and sleeping loft, and then we reconvened in the kitchen a few minutes later.

"Condom wrapper," Adrian said, holding it out.

"Thanks so very much," I said, taking it from him. I wrapped it in a napkin and shoved it in the trash. "Anything else?"

"Besides the stuff we're going to leave behind on purpose? Nothing. Just... beautiful memories," Adrian said, and wiggled his eyebrows at me. "You find anything?

"Nothing but the papers I had left in the office," I said. "I put them in my bag."

"Then we're ready," Adrian said, and I nodded.

We took the bags outside and sat down on one of the couches, looking out at the duck pond. I felt kind of like I had felt the day a few years ago when I'd left Utah for Russia, and I wasn't quite sure why. I put my head down on Adrian's shoulder again, closing my eyes, hoping that five minutes could stretch for another hour or two.

But then the door opened and Maeve emerged, Tony a few steps behind her. She was carrying a white plastic grocery bag, stuffed with what looked like food, and he held a heavy looking duffel bag. He was wearing the same outfit he'd been wearing before, but she had changed into a short, sleeveless, black cotton sundress with an asymmetrical, ragged hem. She had arranged her hair into a messy bun, a few long purple strands trailing down her back past an intricate tattoo, and she was barefoot.

"Ok, it's about time," Maeve said to me and Adrian, putting the plastic bag down on the table. "You guys almost ready?"

"More or less," I said.

"More less, less more," Adrian said.

"I'll just bring this stuff over and get things set up," Tony said, ignoring us, and, hefting the duffel onto his back, followed the trail that I knew led to the zipline platform.

"Hey, Pumpkin?" Maeve said. "Can I steal your girlfriend for a minute?"

"As long as you give her back when you're done," Adrian said, getting to his feet.

"Promise," Maeve said.

"Cool," Adrian said. "I'll go... be busy inside for a few minutes"

"There's some OJ in the fridge," Maeve said.

Adrian nodded. "I'll bring some out to you two in a bit," he said, and went inside.

Once the door had closed behind him, I turned to Maeve. "What's up?"

"How are you?" she asked, as she sat down.

"I'm fine," I said. "We were just looking at the ducks."

"Aren't they cute?" Maeve said, looking out at the little kiddie pool "pond."

"Very," I said. "What are their names?"

"That's Ming," Maeve said, pointing. "That's Sweetie, the one flapping her wings. And that's Omigod, on the end."

"Omigod?"

"Get it?" Maeve asked, her eyes sparkling. "Omigod Duck?" She stared up at the sky, comical terror on her face. "Oh my god, DUCK!" she said.

I laughed. "That's great," I said.

Maeve smiled. "Pretty good, right? I was proud of that one." Then her expression grew more serious. "So, anyway, I um, I have kind of good news and bad news. Bad news first. I have to ask you something."

"Ok," I said, cautiously.

She bit her lip. "I really, really, really, really, really hate to bring this up," she said, looking down at the ground. "But there's a weight requirement for the zipline, so... ."

"Didn't you say it's safety rated to 500 pounds?" I said. Did she really think I weighed more than _that_?

"Oh, sure," she said. "But I meant the _minimum_ weight requirement. You have to weigh at least 115 pounds to make it across the ravine."

I stared at her, uncomprehending. "What?" I whispered.

"It's just a _thing_," she said. "You know, a thing with physics and stuff. You need to weigh enough to get enough momentum to make it over."

"That's not fair," I said. "It makes no sense. I'm healthy."

"I know you are... _trying_ to be extra healthy," Maeve said, softly. "And I know you're in the middle of a lot of things right now. But Sydney, it isn't about fair or not fair. It's about, like, physics. Physics doesn't really care about fair or not fair. It just... _is_."

I was so caught up in the injustice of it all that I almost didn't notice that she had called me by my real name. "Wait," I said. "What did you just call me?"

"Oh," Maeve said. "I'm sorry. I wasn't going to do that. But I had been suspecting that maybe you were the girl that Jackie told me about, and, well, you kind of gave yourself away this morning. Not that I'm not completely totally absolutely amazingly grateful, oh my goddess," she added, hurriedly.

"Jackie... told you...?" I repeated, dumbfounded. _Jackie_?

"She just said to be on the lookout for a powerful human girl and a Moroi guy, who would probably be traveling with a dhampir and/or a Moroi girl," she said. "You guys have some pretty amazing disguises, you know that? Even knowing what Pumpkin is, I still can't tell. But I guess that makes Mason the dhampir? And your friend Emily is the Moroi girl?"

"I... well... yes," I said, flummoxed. What else could I say?

Maeve nodded. "I knew Mason had to be a dhampir," she said. "Dhampirs are the sexiest thing on earth, don't you think? Well, perhaps you wouldn't think so. But I do." She smiled winningly. "Anyway, back to..."

"Hold on," I said. "When you said Jackie, did you mean Jackie _Terwiliger_?"

"Well, yes," Maeve said, apparently surprised at the question. "Who did you think I meant?"

"I wasn't sure," I said.

Maeve shrugged. "She's really cool," she said. "And smart. The scatter-brained thing is just a front. She's got a lot going on underneath."

I thought about the conversation we'd had at the art show, when we'd talked about a ball bouncing back and forth in two dimensional space. Yes, Maeve was right about Ms. Terwiliger. "Are you... in her coven?" I asked.

"No," Maeve said. "But still, local witches gotta stay in touch with each other, you know?"

"But if you suspected that we were... friends... of Jackie Terwilliger, why didn't you just tell Tony that when he got so upset with us?"

She sighed. "I would have if it had gotten necessary, but then he would have wondered why I didn't tell him about my suspicions sooner and it would have been a whole thing," she said. "And then he would have made a big deal about Jackie sending people out here when really we just offer space to through-hikers, and he would have given her a load of crap next time we saw her."

"Jackie didn't 'send us' out here," I said.

"Well, it doesn't matter how you got here – you got here, didn't you?" Maeve said.

"But I still don't even understand how she knew that we –"

"You'll have to ask her about it," Maeve said. "I don't really know, myself. Anyway, listen, hon. We really have to take care of this zipline issue."

I paused, then nodded. "I guess you're right," I said, slowly.

"I really don't think you're making the minimum weight," she said, looking me up and down. "So we'll need a plan B."

"Couldn't we just … I mean, couldn't I put rocks in my pocket and wear a heavy backpack...?"

"That can only do so much," she said. "Besides, the backpack would be dead weight, not something you can use to sort of... swing yourself over."

"So... will I just have to walk through the ravine?" I asked. "If so, I should go now..."

"No, silly," Maeve said. "There's a solution – there always is. We can use my special tandem trolley and zip together."

"At the same time?"

"That's what 'together' usually means," Maeve answered, dryly.

"Is that safe?" I asked. "Can the wires hold us?"

"I told you, it's safety rated to 500 pounds," Maeve said. "I think we could zip _three_ at a time and still weigh less than that. And it's much safer than you zipping by yourself. You could get stuck halfway across the ravine if you don't get enough momentum going."

"Oh," I said.

"Don't worry," Maeve said. "When my niece visited, I zipped over with her lots of times – that's why we got the tandem trolley. We might as well use it now."

"Do you have to tell... everyone... _why_ we're zipping together?" I asked. "Will you make a big deal out of it?"

"Not if you don't want me to," Maeve said.

"Thanks," I said. "I don't."

Just then, the kitchen door opened and Adrian approached us with two glasses of orange juice. "One for each lovely lady," he said, handing them over. "Gotta get your vitamin C, right?"

"Mmmm," Maeve said, taking a sip. "Thank you, Pumpkin."

"Yes, thanks," I said.

"At your service, ladies," he said, then winked and went back inside.

Maeve giggled. "Your Pumpkin is a hoot," she said. "Does he have any brothers or sisters? I have some single siblings..."

"He's one of a kind," I said.

"Too bad," she said. "Anyway, so it's all settled? We'll do a tandem zip?" She took a long drink of her juice.

"Sure," I said. "It's no big deal. We didn't really need to talk so secretly."

Maeve considered that, tilting her head left and right. "If you say so," she said. "Anyway, I told you I had good news and bad news. So..." She got to her feet and began rummaging through the plastic grocery bag on the table. "Here's the good news – I have a present for you."

"I don't need another present," I said. "You already gave me this." I patted the wooden dove necklace she'd made for me.

"And you and your boyfriend gave me my Maxie back, which is worth everything to me," Maeve said. "Besides, Tony and I talked it over and we both think you need this... It's in here somewhere... Oh, here." She smiled and handed me what she'd been looking for – a small, midnight blue velvet bag. I opened the drawstring top and peered inside. My eyes widened. "Tony thinks it might help you," Maeve said. "And I think it might help you cut through some of your own doubt and confusion. Among other things." She smiled.

"I can't take this," I said. "For one thing – "

Maeve smiled. "You're my friend now," she said. "I want you to have it."

"Oh," I said. Unaccountably, tears came into my eyes, and I hid them by getting to my feet so I could tie the velvet bag to my belt loop. "Thanks," I said. "I'll take good care of it. Maybe I can give it back to you someday."

"You're welcome to come back to our place any time," Maeve said. As she spoke, she was unloading the rest of the contents of the plastic bag and putting them out on the table – baggies and baggies full of muffins and other snacks. "You and Pumpkin and Mason. And bring Emily, ok?"

"I hope we can," I said, as the kitchen door opened and Adrian came out, Max slinking behind him. Adrian waited patiently by the door for us to finish our conversation, the cat rubbing against his legs.

"I really think that the goddess put you in my life for a reason," Maeve said, and gave me a tight hug. "I hope we stay in touch, and I really mean that."

"I hope so, too," I said.

"It's OK," Maeve called to Adrian as we pulled apart. "We're done talking."

"Hey, you can hug all you like, girls," Adrian said, walking over to us. "Don't stop on my account."

"Shut up, Pumpkin," Maeve said, cheerfully. "Stop being a booger."

"Madam, I am never a booger," Adrian said, and bowed.

"He's not really... I mean, he says things sometimes but he's not..." I sighed. How could I explain Adrian? Could anyone ever explain Adrian?

Maeve laughed good-naturedly. "I get it," she said. "I told you, I think he's a hoot. Now, can you fit this stuff in your backpacks?" She gestured to the snacks on the table. "I packed you guys enough food for today and maybe even tomorrow."

"We'll make room," Adrian said, and set to the task of shoving baggies full of snacks into every available square inch in each of the three backpacks - taking a quick moment to shove one of the still-warm muffins into his mouth, first. I bent down to help him, thinking about how hungry Eddie would be by now – not to mention poor Jill.

Maeve, meanwhile, was stretching one of her hamstrings, balancing perfectly on one bare foot. "So, where's all the rest of your stuff? You've got to have more than just those four bags."

"That's all we need to bring," I said. "We're leaving some stuff behind for you, some camping gear and stuff. We um, don't need it anymore."

"I saw your gear when you got here," she said. "Looks nice. Sure you don't want it?"

"Consider it all a gift," Adrian said, shoving the last baggie of dried apples into the front compartment of Eddie's backpack. "Repayment for all the food and stuff."

"We'll just hold onto it for now," Maeve said. "One more reason for you to come back." She smiled. "Why don't you finish your juice before we go, Sydney? You'll need the vitamins."

Feeling as if everyone, even the cat, was staring at me, I drank the rest of my juice. "There," I said, setting the empty glass down on the table. "Happy?"

"Delighted," Adrian said. He apparently hadn't noticed that Maeve had used my real name.

"Good," Maeve said. "Maxie, want to say goodbye to our friends?"

The cat, busy licking one of his paws, ignored her. Adrian bent over to give him a pat on the head, and I followed suit. Max accepted our affection, like a king accepting gifts from peasants, then went back to licking his paw.

"Ready to go?" Maeve asked.

"I guess so," Adrian said, and looked at me.

"Yes," I said.

"Then let's go," she said, picking up two of our backpacks, padding down the trail in her bare feet.

Adrian and I picked up the other bags and the three of us headed down the path to the zipline. As we walked, Maeve explained one more time how the zipline would work – how we'd be holding on to the small wheeled trolly, but our weight would be supported by the harnesses, not our arms. "You're really just sliding down the wire," she said. "It's easy, as long as you're not afraid of heights."

"It sounds awesome," Adrian said. "Assuming we don't die, it should be a lot of fun."

When we got to the zipline spot, Tony had already set out several harnesses and wheeled trolleys. As Tony gave technical instructions on how to use our weight and momentum to get across the ravine, she and I got into the tandem harness for our zip. It only took a minute to get ready, and then I found myself standing on the edge of the wooden platform, about to leap into space.

"Just do whatever I do," Maeve said, turning her head slightly to look at me over her shoulder. "If I stick my arms out, you stick your arms out. If I ball up, you ball up. Ok?"

"Ok," I said, starting to get nervous.

"We'll jump on the count of three," Maeve said. "One... Two..." And she jumped, pulling me after her.

There was a split second of free fall, but then our weight settled into the harness. We were flying, the ground sailing beneath us at 50 or 60 miles per hour, the sky seemingly within reach of my fingertips. The fear subsided quickly and then I was consumed by the joy of it – the air, the sky, the trees. The sound of the wheels rolling along the wire was a metallic song in my ears. But though I had come to really like Maeve in the short time I'd known her, I was acutely aware of how much more exhilarating it would be to be on this ride by myself, the wind fresh in my face as I flew across the ravine.

_But you can't make it across the ravine by yourself_, my inner goad reminded me. _You're too light_.

"Nothing wrong with lightness," I thought back at myself. "Lightness is good. Let there be light."

_But strength and power come from substance. Don't you want to be substantial?_

"No," I thought, miserably. "Not in that way."

_Even if it means you can't fly on your own power?_

"But being light is supposed to make it easier to fly."

_Maybe not. Maybe you need powerful wings more than you need hollow bones._

"I'm still powerful," I told myself. "I have power over myself."

"You ok back there?" Maeve half-shouted.

"Fine!" I called back.

"Get ready for the landing!" she told me, and in fact, the landing platform was coming up on the horizon, quicker than I had thought it would.

Maeve touched down first, and then I did, and we jogged to a stop. Maeve unhooked our trolley, and we stepped out of the harness.

"Did you like it?" Maeve asked, as she yanked hard on the wire – the all-clear sign.

"It was amazing," I said.

From across the ravine, we heard Adrian shout "GERONIMO!" and then the sound of his trolley wheels came rolling along the wire.

"I know, right?" Maeve said. "It's much more fun if you can go by yourself." She was putting our harness and trolley into a sturdy plastic storage box that evidently was there for that purpose.

"I guess it would be," I said. "Well, anyway, we shaved a lot of time off the trip, didn't we?"

"Sure did," Maeve said.

Adrian was approaching quickly, still shouting. We stood well to the side as he came in for a landing, crashing into the mattress. "Oh my God," he said, laughing. "That was fantastic. Amazing. I want to do it again!"

"Well then, come back soon!" Maeve said. She pointed to a high ledge a short distance from where we were standing. "We're thinking of installing another line from up there, back down to our zip station on the other side of the ravine. So then we'd be able to just climb up there real quick and voila, zip back home."

"Super cool," Adrian said. "Isn't it, sweetheart?"

"Super cool," I repeated.

"Ok, Pumpkin, you should get out of the way before Tony comes over..." Maeve said, gesturing.

"Oh!" Adrian said, and began unhooking himself. With Maeve's help, he got to the side of the platform quickly.

"Is Tony coming with us to Gold Run?" I asked.

"Nah," Maeve said. "He's just zipping over to bring all your stuff over."

Adrian had worn one backpack on his zip, but when Tony arrived on our platform, I saw that he was wearing two of them. Additionally, he'd held on to the trolley with only one hand so that he could hold my alchemist kit with the other. Maeve helped unhook him and get all our bags in order.

"Well, good luck, I guess," Tony said to me and Adrian as he put his harness and trolley into the storage case. We thanked him, and he nodded, then gave Maeve a quick kiss. "Might as well bring this stuff back with me," he added, picking up the storage container and settling it on his shoulder.

"What are you going to do with your day?" Maeve asked affectionately.

"Probably some gardening," Tony said.

"Ohhhhh," Maeve said, nodding. "You go do that. You're good at it. I'll see you in a few hours."

Tony smiled at Maeve, then gave me and Adrian a stiff, terse farewell before abruptly setting off down into the ravine, carrying the huge heavy plastic storage case as easily as if it were empty.

"Don't mind him too much," Maeve said. "He likes you, really." Neither Adrian nor I responded to that. Instead, we let Maeve lead us to her car, her bare feet almost silent on the uneven trail.


	64. II: All Kinds of Thievery

**Book II: These Three Remain  
><strong>

**Chapter 30: All Kinds of Thievery **

We found Eddie just where he'd said he'd be - at a small, almost deserted rest area just off the main road. He was sitting at a concrete picnic table, reading yesterday's _San Francisco Chronicle, _a small pile of junk food wrappers scattered around him. We gave each other a round of hugs – though of course Adrian and Eddie's hug was sufficiently masculine – and chatted a little while Eddie ate a few of the muffins Maeve had made. Maeve didn't ask about Eddie's torn clothing and bruised face, perhaps sensing that he wouldn't be able to give her an honest answer. Instead, we talked about the ride over in Maeve's ancient Honda, the trip over on the zipline, and a little bit about meeting Tony. But sooner or later it was time to go back to Maeve's car and start unloading our stuff.

"Thanks again for the ride," I said, as we walked. "You've helped us so much."

"We've been over that!" Maeve said, laughing. "No thanks needed. It's been fun having you three around. It's going to kind of suck when the next through-hikers stop in, because they're not going to be _you_. Goddess, most of them are so used to the wilderness that they can hardly have a normal conversation anymore."

As we unloaded the car, I thought she might ask us what we were going to do without a car of our own, but again, she didn't ask any uncomfortable questions. She just helped us pile our bags up on the curb. Then she turned to Adrian. "Give me a hug, Pumpkin," she said, holding out her arms. Adrian hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground an inch or two. After he put her down, she said, "Take good care of your friends for me, OK?"

"Will do, ma'am," Adrian said.

"And _you_," she said, turning to me. "You take good care of your_self_. Remember what I said, about... everything."

"I will," I said. "Thank you for this." I patted my hip, where the blue velvet bag still dangled from my belt loop.

"My pleasure, and I mean that," she said. Then she looked at Eddie and said, "Go and find your girl, honey. Remember, there's no way that you loving her can hurt her, as long as you really, honestly, love _her_. The girl, not the _idea_ of the girl."

"Right," Eddie said, uncomfortably.

"Come here, silly," Maeve added, her arms outspread, and Eddie gave her one more hug. Then she looked back at me. "I guess I shouldn't ask where you guys are going next?"

"It's better you don't know," I said. "Where we're going..." I trailed off.

"_Thar be sarpents_," Maeve supplied.

"Pretty much," I said.

Maeve nodded. "Well, stay safe, you three," she said. "I'll be praying for you, asking the Goddess to guide and protect you. I hope that we meet again, on this plane or the next."

We said a few more goodbyes, and then Maeve got in her car and drove off. We waved and watched her drive away, and when her car disappeared around a bend, I felt, irrationally, as if we'd been abandoned.

* * *

><p>It took us a while to find the right car to steal.<p>

There weren't that many cars in the lot, and most of them were owned by people who had just stopped in quickly to use the bathroom. The car Eddie had slept in the previous night had already been retrieved by its owner, and we needed to a car that was at least twenty years old, in order to make hotwiring it more feasible. Too jumpy to split up, we walked around the parking lot together, looking for the right vehicle. Finally, Adrian's strong eyes noticed a light blue sedan parked a short way down a dirt road leading away from the rest area.

Almost immediately, I had a feeling this would be the right car. It was a Mercury Grand Marquis, a smooth riding sedan with plush seats and a suspension system that could have coddled a Faberge Egg. Or at least, that's what it had been, 100,000 miles and 20 years ago. Now, its fenders were marked with rust, its seats were dirty and torn, and its roof and windows were covered with dust, fallen leaves, and pollen. I gave the car a quick once-over while Eddie and Adrian began clearing off the debris.

"What's the verdict?" Adrian asked, as I closed the hood.

"The tires are a bit under-inflated and the fluid levels are low, but it's good enough to steal," I said. "Give me a few minutes and I'll have it started, assuming it _can_ be started."

"That's my Sage," Adrian said. He gave me a kiss on the cheek, then went back to clearing off the leaves, some of which were stuck in the blades of the windshield wipers.

"Need any help getting it started?" Eddie asked me.

"No, but there's something else you can do," I said, digging in my alchemist kit for the envelope full of papers I'd printed out for Eddie. "Do you have any quarters on you?"

"Some may have fallen out of the vending machine when I was... using it... last night," Eddie said, with studied innocence. He patted his jacket pocket, and I heard coins jingling.

The sound of Adrian's laughter came from the other side of the car. "_Using_ it," he repeated.

"Good," I said, ignoring Adrian. I handed Eddie his copy of the itinerary, explaining that he'd find the phone number of the early-stage feeder in Colfax on page 2. "If there's a working pay phone anywhere around here, can you give her a call and make sure she's home?"

"Can do, Chief," Eddie said, with a trace of a smile, and strode off in the direction of the bathrooms, digging through the envelope of papers as he walked.

I settled into the front seat of the car with my alchemist kit, leaving all the doors open to help air out the stuffy interior.

It had been a few years since I'd last hotwired a car, and I was almost looking forward to it. Newer cars usually have a variety of anti-theft devices built in that make hotwiring a tricky proposition, but this car was still old enough to be comparatively easy to work with. With _really_ old cars, you can always just jam a screwdriver in the ignition and turn it like a key, but this car wasn't old enough for that particular trick to work. The next best option was to destroy the locking mechanism around the keyhole, and that's what I set out to do. I used an alchemist preparation to slowly dissolve the edges of the lock, careful not to destroy any of the thin wires inside of the steering column.

While I worked, Eddie returned, three cups of vending machine coffee balanced in his hands. I accepted mine gratefully, even though I knew it'd be awful, and placed it in one of the Grand Marquis cup holders. Eddie and Adrian chatted about the itinerary I'd drawn up while they cleared off the last of the debris and loaded our gear into the back seat. Finally, the last piece of the lock fell away. I inserted the screwdriver and turned it a few degrees forward as if it were a key. The engine roared to life.

"Knew you could do it!" Adrian shouted to me, jumping up and down, and Eddie offered me an enthusiastic high-five.

I gave the steering wheel an exploratory turn, and to my delight, it turned easily. I had managed not to trigger any anti-theft wheel-locking devices. The lights, windshield wipers, and turn signals all worked as well. "Not much gas in the tank, though," I said, dismayed, as I watched the gas indicator turn only a few degrees clockwise. "We'll have to get to a gas station soon – probably within the next 100 miles or so."

"We'll deal," Adrian said, then added, "Shotgun!" as he climbed into the front seat.

Eddie got into the backseat with only the faintest of grumbles, and once we were all settled in, I put the car in gear.

"I wonder why someone abandoned this thing," I said, as I backed us down the dirt road. "It's in decent shape, really."

"Maybe they went fishing or something," Adrian said. "There's a brook about a half-mile or so into the woods. The person could be camping by the water for a few days."

"You could hear the brook?" I asked, as we re-entered the parking area.

"I could hear it and smell it," Adrian said.

"I felt the coolness of it in the wind," Eddie put in.

"Hmm," I said. "Well, yeah, I guess it's possible that the owner is camping..."

"I hope he or she stays there for a while longer," Adrian said. "Last thing we need is for the car to be reported stolen."

I sighed. I felt bad for the person we'd stolen the car from, but there were lives depending on this: our own, Jill's, and possibly many more. "I hope we can give the car back some day," I said. "It's a nice car, even if it is a bit old."

"So we're headed to a feeder?" Adrian said, as we pulled out onto the main road. "In... what's the name of the town? Carfax?"

"Colfax," I corrected. "It's about fifteen minutes away."

"She said we can come by any time before noon," Eddie said. "She sounded pretty excited to be getting a visit."

"I bet she is," I said. My head was instantly swimming with the image of Adrian's teeth sinking into the neck of a pretty girl. I tried to shake the images away and focus on the road.

"Think how more excited she'll be when she sees who's biting her," Adrian said, his voice at its most dulcet.

To change the subject from feeders and biting, I asked Adrian if he could read the directions out loud to me, and he agreed and fumbled for his copy of the itinerary, which he'd stuck in the huge pockets of his stylish black windbreaker. I was a little jealous. Girls' pockets were never that big.

* * *

><p>The feeder's house could be better described as a mansion. It was built in the "modern style," which in this case meant it was an ugly, lumbering concrete monolith. Idly, I wondered why American buildings so rarely showed any real architectural finesse. The property was surrounded by a huge hedge finished off with a security gate, and I had to push a button and shout into a speaker before the gate lifted to let us in. I drove up the driveway and parked the Grand Marquis in between a sleek black BMW and a deep blue Audi.<p>

"Can you hotwire one of _those_ cars instead, Sage?" Adrian asked, as we got out of the Mercury.

"Not without a great deal of time and effort," I said. "Besides, Azura here is doing a good job."

"You named it Azura?" Adrian said. "I think that's a good name for it."

As the three of us made our way down the granite-paved walkway to the front door, Adrian and I slipped off our rings so that the feeder would be able to tell that we were a Moroi and an alchemist. We all glanced at each other and nodded, and then I stepped forward to ring the doorbell.

A girl not much older than us answered the door. Her thin, pale brown hair was worn loose around her shoulders, and her large blue eyes stood out in her oval face. She was tall, thin, and willowy, almost pale enough to be a Moroi herself. She wore indigo blue jeans and a black sleeveless turtleneck. "Hi," she said, uncertainly, her gaze settling in on my tattoo. "Are you from the... um, place?"

"I'm an alchemist," I said.

"That's what I meant," she replied.

"I'm Sara Stanton," I said, shaking her hand. Her hand was dry and even colder than mine.

"Emma," she said in reply.

"And this is Richard Ozera." I nodded at Adrian, holding my posture stiffly, just as an alchemist normally would when dealing with a Moroi and a feeder.

The girl looked over at Adrian. Her eyes widened as she reached out to shake his hand. "Hi," she breathed. "Ozera? A royal? Wow... I've never been bit– I mean, I've never met a _royal_ before."

"My colleague, Guardian Smith, called you earlier with regard to a necessary service we'd like you to perform," I said, nodding to Eddie, and Emma reached out to shake Eddie's hand, then looked back at me. "Lord Ozera is passing through this area unexpectedly," I said, "and he needs your assistance, if you're willing."

She nodded mutely and stepped to the side to let us in.

I glanced around the foyer. A long staircase curved upward toward the second floor, and a huge chandelier hung overhead. All the fixtures were gaudy brass, and there were several statues of fat baby angels perched on fake Doric columns. I rarely cared about interior decorating schemes, but this was enough to set my nerves on edge.

"It's awful, isn't it?" Emma said, as if reading my mind, or more likely, my facial expression. "Not my fault. My step-mom has absolutely no taste at all whatsoever. Anyway, they won't be home for a while. Dad's out of town and Dana is shopping or something." She gave me a weird smile. "They'd literally _die_ if they knew I let vampires bite me. Hell, they'd die if they even knew that vampires were real. They hated _Twilight_."

"Ah," I said, knowing better than to offer my own opinion on that particular movie, or on her usage of the word "literally."

"Anyway, my point is, my dad is just totally out of it. He's still mad that I don't want to go back to college." She flipped her long hair over her shoulder, pouting. "I told them, I just need time to _find_ myself."

"As far as I can tell, you're right here," Adrian said.

"That's funny," Emma said, but she didn't laugh. Her big blue eyes rolled toward Eddie and me. "Like, you two, do you want anything? A bottle of water or something? The kitchen's in there." She pointed toward a door to our right, eying me with faint amusement. "Maybe _you_ want to eat a sandwich or something. There's cold cuts and stuff."

"Thank you," I said, stiffly. "But I've had breakfast already."

"I'm good, too," Eddie said.

She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She looked at Adrian. "So, um, do you want to do it right here, or...?" As she spoke, she took off her shirt, revealing a lacy tank top that I was pretty sure she had bought in a lingerie store. She also revealed a few bruises on her neck in various stages of healing.

Adrian looked at me for a moment. I shrugged, and he looked back at the girl. "Well, you'll need a place to sit down..." he said.

"Oh, right," Emma said. "Come on, the living room will work." She pointed at an arched doorway, through which an ornate sofa was visible.

"I'll be right outside," I said, adopting my most officious alchemist tone.

"See you in a minute, Ms. Stanette," Adrian said, getting my fake name wrong.

"Yeah, bye," Emma said, without much energy. She was focused on Adrian. She was thinking about the bite.

"Guardian?" I said, and Eddie nodded and followed me out of the house. It took all my willpower to walk casually out to the car as if nothing odd were happening.

I nearly jumped a foot in the air when Eddie touched my arm softly. "Sorry, Syd," he said. "I just wanted to ask if you were ok."

"Fine," I said, sitting down on the hood of our car.

"You, uh, don't look fine."

"I'm great," I said.

We were both quiet for a moment, and then Eddie said, "At St. Vlad's, the feeders were all so much older than us, you know? So if I was involved with a Moroi girl, she'd be biting some middle-aged person. It didn't seem sexual in the slightest. And I guess I'm lucky because the only girl I'm interested in these days pretty much only bites a middle-aged woman, so it's almost impossible to be jealous."

I looked at him in surprise. "But you might be if she were biting someone who looked like... say... Micah?" I asked.

Eddie looked down at his hands. "Probably," he said, very softly.

"Thanks," I said.

"For...?"

"For telling me that," I said.

"No problem," Eddie said. "And you know, I have an idea that might take your mind off of things." He grinned. "Weren't you saying we were low on gas?" With his head, he gestured to the BMW and the Audi.

I felt a smile blossom on my face.

* * *

><p>"Well, that's done," Adrian said, coming down the walkway, then stopped in his tracks. "Um, what's going on here?"<p>

I glanced over at him and laughed. "Just more law-breaking," I said.

"Trying to round out our resume," Eddie said cheerfully. He was sitting on the hood of the mercury, his arms held out stiffly, while I was applying an alchemist compound to the metal rings around his wrists – the remnants of the handcuffs the police had put on him the night before.

"You had those on this whole time?" Adrian exclaimed.

Eddie shrugged. "Weren't hurting anything," he said. "I'd already broken them apart, so really, they were no more than a nuisance. And we were in a hurry."

"Okayyyyy," Adrian said, thinking that over. "And, just so I know, besides stealing the car, what laws have we broken?"

"Well, as you mentioned, there's stealing the car," I said, continuing my careful application of the metal buster to Eddie's cuffs. "In this case, that's a 485 and a 487-3-1. Yesterday, Eddie escaped from police custody, that's a 107, and then vandalized a vending machine, that's probably a 594. We've all been lying about our identities, that's against section 114. You just did a little mayhem inside the house there, that's a 203. Right now, I'm tampering with his hand cuffs, probably considered a 109. And just a moment ago, Eddie and I engaged in a little petty theft."

"Theft of gasoline," Eddie said. "California Penal Code 330b and, uh, 596.5"

"Those are the codes for having an illegal slot-machine parlor and for mistreating elephants," I said.

"Whatever," Eddie said.

"And you guys stole gas?" Adrian said, surprised. "From these cars?" He gestured vaguely at the BMW and the Audi.

"It's easy," I said. "I had some rubber hose in my alchemist kit... ."

"I swear, your alchemist kit is like Hermione's beaded evening bag," Adrian said.

"If you say so," I said. "Anyway, all we had to do was insert one end into the target tank and the other into Azura's tank. Then we put one more, shorter length of hose into the target tank, wrapped both hoses with cloth to create a seal, and then blew into the shorter hose a little. And then..."

"Viola," Eddie said. "Grand theft gasoline. Penal code 628."

"That's running an illegal massage parlor," I said, and put down the bottle of the alchemist compound I'd been using. I counted to seven, gave a quick prayer up to God, then tapped on each metal band sharply with a small wooden rod. Each cuff crumbled into pieces, like a brittle cracker. "There you go," I said.

"Neat trick," Eddie said. "You never cease to amaze me."

"Glad I could help," I said.

"Ok, that was really cool," Adrian said. "And now that your hands are free..." As he spoke, he came over to give me a hug and a kiss on the cheek. Then he leaned back slightly to meet my eyes. I gave him a long look, brushing the hair back from his face. His cheeks were tinged slightly with pink, and he seemed to be taller, more vital somehow than he'd been just a few minutes ago. My momentary jealousy faded as I reminded myself how much Adrian had needed the additional blood. "What?" he asked, looking at me self-consciously. "I don't have..." And he rubbed at the corners of his mouth.

"No, you're fine," I said, smiling, and gave him a quick peck on the lips. He smiled back, looking slightly surprised.

"Ok, let's go," Eddie said, all business again, and we quickly packed up the remainder of our gear and got back into the car.

As we all put on our seatbelts, Eddie said, "I love that we don't feel bad about stealing gas from those people."

I shrugged and turned the screwdriver "key" to start the engine. "They're obviously well-off financially," I said. "We need the gas more than they do. It's not as if we left either tank completely empty – there are at least two or three gallons in each car."

I began backing us out of the driveway, and a motion sensor activated the gate mechanism.

"How long will it take to get down to... where they're holding Jill?" Eddie asked, as I made the turn back onto the main street.

"It's all in your itinerary," I said. "About six or seven hours, rest stops included. But we're going to have to make a few more stops before we leave the Sacramento area."

"We need to do a bit more thievery?" Eddie suggested.

"Yes," I said. "California Penal Code 487-d-2."

"And that's..." Adrian said.

"Grand Theft Firearm," I said.


	65. II: The Point of the Gun

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 50: The Point of the Gun**

"Hey, Eddie?" I said. "Would it be ok if, um, you drove? For a while?"

Eddie dropped his French fry in surprise. "You want _me_ to drive?" he said.

We were making a quick pit stop at a fast food place just off the highway. It was almost 4 pm, and we'd been driving most of the day, as fast as we reasonably could without risking getting pulled over by the police. We'd made pretty good time, and as we got closer and closer to the compound in Big Sur, a feeling of un-reality had descended over me. It was hard for me to reconcile two disparate facts: (1) I was driving at a normal speed along a nice highway with two of my best friends, and (2) I was driving ever closer to a dangerous confrontation with an enemy who had already caused me unbearable torment. My brain couldn't seem to accept both of these pieces of information at once, so for the most part, I just focused on the nice highway.

Or at least, I tried to. The problem, though, was that my mind had started to play tricks on me. I kept thinking I was seeing highway patrol cars everywhere, but each time I saw one, when I looked a second time, the car would turn out to be something innocuous, like a station wagon. Once or twice I'd needed Adrian and Eddie to reassure me that the SUV in my rear-view mirror was _not_ Caliban. Making things more confusing, I kept catching glimpses of something small and black, something traveling above us – something just out of my field of vision. I hated that I couldn't trust my own sight, my own mind. This, I knew, was another by-product of what had happened to me in Truckee, and I hated the Wheldons even more for what they'd done to me.

Now, sitting in this ugly orange booth with Eddie, I searched my brain for an excuse for him to take over at the wheel. "Well, I was hoping to keep my hands free for a bit so I could work on something," I said, toying with my apple slices. They'd come with a gooey caramel sauce, which, if applied to the apples, would entirely negate any health benefit the fruit would otherwise offer.

"Work on something?" Eddie repeated.

My mind settled on an idea just in time. "I was thinking I might make some silencers for the guns," I said. "I could make them while you drive and Adrian works on boosting the power in the disguise rings."

"If you wanted silencers, you should have said so while we were up in Sacramento," Eddie said, and resumed scarfing down his French fries. I wondered how he could be so hungry after eating so much of the food that Maeve had packed for us. "That crazy gun dealer probably had them. He had everything else... hollow point ammo, armor piercing bullets... And he would've given us whatever we wanted – he was such a pushover."

"Yeah, but his silencers would have been secular technology," I said. "Alchemist silencers are much better. They remove the sound completely. Well, really they disperse the sound temporally in a non-adjacent area..."

Eddie laughed through his fries. "Ok, Syd, whatever," he said. "But I mean... do we _need_ silencers?"

"They couldn't hurt," I said. "We might need to make a stealth assault on a guard station."

Eddie gave me an appraising look. He knew that it was unlikely that we would shoot and kill anyone if we didn't have to. If we encountered a lone guard, we would use either Adrian's compulsion or Eddie's fists to drop the guy without killing him. If we were using our guns at all, it would only be because we were in the middle of a serious battle, or because we wanted to scare someone. Silencing a gun in either of those situations would almost ruin the point of having a gun in the first place. Eddie knew all this full well, but still, he smiled at me and said, "If you want to make them, Syd, I'll drive. It might be nice for you to have a break, anyway."

I sipped at my diet soda calmly, then said, "Yeah, I guess everyone needs a break sometimes."

"Anything else on your mind, Syd?" Eddie asked.

I wished, suddenly, that Adrian was already back from the bathroom. I knew that Eddie knew something about lingering fear and pain after a trauma, and I hated the fact that I couldn't fool him. At least when Adrian was around, the conversation usually stayed light and airy. I looked down at my apple slices. "I'm nervous about this... rescue attempt thing," I said, which was true enough. "We still haven't figured out where we're going afterward."

"I thought Mexico," Eddie said. "Adrian even has fake passports ready for us, remember?"

We'd found a set of silly fake passports sold at a gas station, children's toys that were no more convincing than Monopoly money would be. But Adrian had carefully worked with them during the drive, using a set a colored pencils we'd bought for him, weaving in his compulsion powers at every step. If we presented the passports at the same time as he used actual compulsion, the documents would probably convince someone. Probably.

"Yeah, I guess Mexico would work," I said. "I just... I'm still nervous."

"I'm nervous too," Eddie said. "I'm worried about Jill. That... we might be too late."

"Yeah," I said. There was a short silence, and then I felt Eddie's eyes on me and I looked up. "What?"

"Do you think she... I mean, you know her pretty well. You two talk. Do you think she would have done it?"

I knew what he meant. Would Jill have gone Strigoi? Would these people have been able to starve Jill into giving up her soul? I shook my head. "Never," I said. "You know her too. You know that."

Eddie nodded. "And _Adrian_ would know," he said. "He would have felt it."

"Probably," I said, though I was starting to wonder about that.

"What would I have felt?" Adrian asked, sliding into the booth next to me.

"Speak of the vampire," I said, as brightly as I could.

"...and he will appear," he said.

"We were saying that you'd know about Jill," Eddie said. "You'd feel it if she... you know."

Adrian's face drained of animation. "I know what you mean, but... I'm not sure I'd know if she did." He paused to consider, munching on a few of Eddie's fries. "I don't know what's going on with our bond. But I _do_ know that she wouldn't do _that _willingly. Ever."

"Right," Eddie said, nodding.

Adrian dipped one of Eddie's fries into the caramel sauce that had come with my apple slices, ate it, and then repeated the process several times while I watched in disgust. Finally, I said, "Are you guys ready to go?"

Adrian nodded, standing up. Eddie grabbed all of his remaining fries and shoved them into his mouth all at once, then stood up, wiping his greasy hands on his jeans.

"You guys are gross," I said, affectionately.

"That's why you love us," Adrian said, as he picked up our garbage and tossed it in the trash.

"Look at you, doing manual labor with your aristocratic hands," Eddie said, and opened the door for us.

"Look at you, using your mighty dhampir strength to open a door," Adrian said, as we walked out together.

"Ok, that's it, you two aren't sitting together," I said, taking Adrian's hand.

"He started it," Adrian said.

Eddie gave him the finger, and they both laughed. I was about to teasingly chide Eddie for his rude gesture when there it was again: the small black thing in the sky. I saw it for just a moment, and then it was gone again. I rubbed my eyes.

Adrian, noticing my shift in mood, pulled me close to him, saying, "You alright, sweetheart?"

"Fine, really," I said, then went on, as casually as I could, "Oh, I asked Eddie to drive for a bit, so that I can concentrate on making some silencers."

"Gun silencers?" Adrian repeated. There were several questions embedded within the phrase, but I chose to answer the easiest one.

"Yeah, gun silencers. I figure it'll be useful to have some, just in case."

"Will they change how the guns work?" Adrian asked. During the drive, Eddie had spent fifteen minutes or so showing Adrian how to load and cock the guns, as well as how to turn the safeties on and off. Adrian, like me, was a quick study.

"No," I said. "They'll still be the same to load and everything."

"Ok," Adrian said. "Um. Sure. I guess silencers could be... useful."

"So while I'm driving, you both will be working," Eddie said, as we got to the car. "I'll try not to hit too many bumps."

"Last time you drove and I rode in the backseat, I died," Adrian pointed out. I hit him softly on the arm. "I got better," he added.

"Pretty sure you'll survive this drive," Eddie said, opening the driver's side door. Not having the keys, we'd had to leave the car unlocked, hoping that no one would bother stealing from an old car like ours. No one had.

"Well, onward and upward," Adrian said, getting into the back seat as I got into the passenger's seat in the front.

I showed Eddie how to start the car with the screwdriver "key", and soon we were moving again.

"I don't think I've ever driven a car this old," Eddie said, turning the huge steering wheel with a bit of effort. "It's like, an antique."

"By definition, an antique car is at least 45 years old," I said. "This car hardly even qualifies as a classic. But if you're interested in antique cars, I'd be happy to discuss them with you when this is all over."

"Thanks, Syd, I'll keep that in mind," Eddie said, as he made the turn to get back on the highway.

"Is that sarcasm?" I asked.

"Yes," Eddie said.

"Ok," I said, and began digging into my alchemist kit to find the parts I'd need to construct silencers. "That's fine. Not everyone likes cars as much as I do. Though I can't understand why not."

"It's one of the few things you don't understand," Eddie said, and I saw him smile.

"One of many," I said, thinking of the small black thing, and the Wheldons, and the inexplicable kindness of Maeve. So many things were past my understanding that I sometimes wondered why people thought of me as smart.

After that, we drove for a while in companionable silence. Adrian was working on re-charging Eddie's disguise ring, while I was working on the silencers, and Eddie was concentrating on driving exactly as fast as he could without drawing attention. The most interesting thing that happened was that we went through a few toll-booths. Finally, I spoke up.

"Ok, I finished the first silencer," I said, and Eddie took his eyes off the road for a second to see it.

"Wow, that's weird looking," he said. "How does it work?"

"Well, the sound is shifted to a non-temporal pocket and..."

"No, I meant, what do we do with it?"

"It doesn't attach to the point of the gun like secular silencers do," I said. "It goes around the trigger guard, in the front." I demonstrated.

"Just how well does it work?"

"I'd have to use it to show you, but it makes the shot completely silent."

"Wow," Eddie said. "Well, I guess we can stop at some point and demonstrate. And while we're at it, I guess it wouldn't hurt us to do a little bit of target practice, quickly, before we actually... you know... go in." He nodded to himself, pleased with the idea. "I think it's worth it to invest ten minutes into that, if it increases our chances of getting Jill back."

"It's always smart to test new weapons," I said. "You have to get the feel of each gun, get used to how they pull, and how strong their kick-back is."

"I guess," Eddie said. "All guns seem the same to me. I just... Oh, shit, another one?" We were coming up on another toll plaza, the third one we'd come to on this stretch of highway. As Eddie slowed the car to a near stop, he began digging into the pile of coins we'd placed in one of the cup-holders, trying to find the required number of dimes and nickels.

"So, where did you get all those coins?" Adrian asked playfully, speaking up for the first time in a while. "Did you stumble and fall and accidentally rob a vending machine?"

"Shut up," Eddie said, but without malice. "I needed something to eat. The whole fight with the police wore me out a little. And that was all to get blood for _you_, Ivashkov."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but you got away," Adrian said. "No big deal. Right?"

Eddie let out an annoyed grunt.

"You never told us that story," I said, partially to change the subject from Eddie's vending machine theft, which he seemed a little embarrassed about. "How did you escape from the police?"

"It's really not that interesting of a story," Eddie said.

"_I_ want to hear it," I said.

"Entertain us, Castile," Adrian said. "I need a break."

Eddie sighed a little as he continued to inch the car forward toward the toll booth. "Well, I told you how they cornered me at the blood bank, right?"

"No, but go on," I said, as I started work on my second silencer.

"Well, they ended up cornering me at the blood bank," Eddie said. "At gunpoint. I probably could have taken them out, but I figured, if I risked my life, I was really risking Jill's, because she's counting on me to... to..." He coughed. "To show up. At some point. So anyway I went nice, right?"

"Makes sense," I said.

"So, they put me in the back seat of a police van with my hands in cuffs," he said. "And at first I was sitting there thinking, I'm not going to get away from this. Jill's going to die and it's all because I'm an idiot. _Again_. Like, what is this, the 97th time?"

"But...?" Adrian prompted.

"But then I noticed that the shitty police van had this shitty, rough seat, with an exposed rough edge on the metal frame. So I started rubbing one link of the chain that linked my cuffs against an exposed rough edge on the metal seat until it frayed a little. Once I'd made a small... dent, I guess you'd call it... in the chain, I was able to break it."

"How'd you break it?" I asked.

"I just... broke it," Eddie said, uncomfortably.

"He means with his bare hands, dhampir style," Adrian said.

I looked at Eddie for confirmation, and he shrugged. "More or less," he said, and inched the car up a little more. There were only two cars ahead of us now. "Then the next time the police opened the door to the van, they weren't expecting me to be, you know, free. So it was easy to punch the first guy out, then run off. I also don't think they expected me to be able to run as fast as I could. Or to have a disguise ring."

"Did they even get a chance to process you?" I asked.

Eddie shrugged. "They didn't take my fingerprints or mug shot or anything," he said. "But they probably got my picture from some of the surveillance cameras at the blood bank, though. Or maybe there were some in the police van, I don't know." It was finally our turn at the toll booth, and Eddie threw some change into the large basket.

As he accelerated back up to full speed, I thought, for a split second, that I saw something in the sky, something small and black. I rubbed my eyes, fighting back the urge to cry.

"And after that," Adrian said, "you just ran until you got to the rest station?"

"More or less," Eddie said.

"I know the feeling," I said, remembering that awful day when I'd tried so hard to escape the Wheldons. I had run so far, fought so hard, but after all of my effort, they'd caught me again.

"I know about that, Sydney," Eddie said. "Adrian told me the story."

"Oh," I said, and turned my attention back to the silencer I was constructing. This part, the sound demotivator, was the toughest, and I had to be careful.

"And once I reached the rest station," Eddie said, continuing his story, "that's when I had a little fight with the vending machine, and I guess you could say I won."

Adrian laughed, that deep, sweet laugh of his. "I love seeing this side of you, Castile," he said. "Guardian Castile, Vending Machine Bandit."

Eddie sighed. "I don't know, I feel kind of bad about the vending machine," he said. "I mean, I'm not Rose. I have a basic moral compass. I hate how we keep having to steal and stuff."

"Maybe we can mail a check to the vending machine company when this is all over," I said.

Adrian laughed again. "Sure, Sage," he said. "We'll do that. We'll just have to go back to that rest stop in Gold Run, find out the name of the company that owns that particular vending machine, find their address, determine the value of the damage, and mail a check for that amount."

"Yes," I said, unperturbed. "That wouldn't be too difficult."

Adrian paused. "Maybe not, now you mention it," he said, thoughtfully. "Especially if, when this is all over, we're all recognized as heroes and my father gives me back my money."

"That would make it easier," I said. "We can go on a road trip and pay back all the people we stole from on this... um... road trip."

"I'm _there_," Eddie said.

"We can go see Maeve again, bring Jill," Adrian said.

"Then go give that feeder girl a gift card to the nearest gas station, put it in her mailbox or something," Eddie said.

"Find and return that car you junked in the woods near the trail to Maeve's place," Adrian said.

Eddie winced. "Might not work out," he said. "But you can just pay off the people you stole it from."

Adrian laughed. "If I have my money back, I'll buy them a brand new one and leave it at the front door," he said.

"Insurance probably already paid for them to get a new one," I said. "Raising everyone's premiums slightly, statewide."

"Then I will plant a beautiful flower garden in the middle of every major town, for all to enjoy," Adrian said grandly. "Then I can go to that gun dealer in Sacramento and give him a Bundt cake for his trouble."

"Then I'll go back to that rest stop where the Wheldons caught me, and burn it to the ground," I said, with unexpected vehemence. I had meant it to be a kind of joke, but the way it came out, it didn't sound like one.

For a long moment, there was silence in the car. Then Adrian reached up between the two front seats to stroke my arm softly. "If you want to do that, I'll bring the kindling and gasoline, sweetheart," he said.

"No," I said. "I was... I was just kidding. Really, um, maybe I can make sure that no one there got hurt that day. Like maybe the cashier, or someone like that. Or find Azura Skye, give her a present."

"Right," Eddie said. "That could be good. And um, I can make a donation to that blood bank, to make up for the trouble." He paused, then added quickly, "I mean, a financial donation. Not... you know..."

"It's a good idea," I said. There was another long silence, and I felt a weird feeling in the pit of my stomach. Why had I said what I'd said, about burning the rest station down? We had been joking and laughing for once on this long, tense drive and I had to go and... ruin it. What was wrong with me? Adrian, sensing my mood, took my hand, and for a while, I just held his hand, trying to resist the urge to climb into the backseat and cuddle up in his arms. It was unprofessional. We had work to do. I couldn't be breaking down right now. Even if there was a chance that by the end of the day, I would again be a captive of the Human Quorum. Even if they continued their "questioning" of me. Even if... But no, I told myself. That wouldn't happen. And now was the time that I had to be strong.

Finally, I let go of Adrian's hand and set to work finishing the second silencer. When I finished it, I held it up to look at it in the brighter light streaming in from the western side of the car. The sun was getting low in the sky, a fact that I didn't want to think too much about.

"Finished another one?" Eddie asked.

"Yeah, I think I have the hang of them now," I said. "The last two should be really fast."

"Last two?" Eddie repeated. "You're going to make one for Jill's gun?"

"Sure," I said. "We might be on the run for a while. You never know what we might need."

"Ok," Eddie said. "I guess that makes sense."

"Besides, it's something I can do to help," I said. "In most fights, I'm going to be more or less a bench-warmer. You're going to be the star player, Eddie."

"Hey, you can hold your own," Eddie said. "You forget, I've seen you fight!"

"Not against a... . I mean, I've only ever fought humans. I'd be useless fighting against anything stronger than that."

"Well, I know you're not going to be able to take out a Strigoi on your own," Eddie conceded. "But you're not useless, Syd."

"You're the one who got us this far," Adrian said, speaking up from the back seat again. He handed me Eddie's ring without comment, and I passed it over to Eddie.

"And you're probably the best one with a gun," Eddie said, as he put the ring back on. For a split second, I thought I saw Eddie shimmer slightly, the way a road shimmers in heat. _Adrian's getting stronger,_ I thought. "You've had more training than we have, anyway," Eddie added.

"Maybe," I said. Realistically, I knew that all my training was no match for Eddie and Adrian's enhanced vision and coordination, even when it came to secular technology like guns. "But if there are Strigoi..."

"I really hope there aren't any Strigoi," Eddie said. "Especially not..." He paused, then added, in a voice thickened with emotion, "... not any Strigoi we know."

We all knew what he meant. In the silence that followed Eddie's words, I thought about how Rose had plotted to capture and restore Sonia Karp, and remembered that terrifying battle between good and evil that had followed – Sonia tied to a chair with a chain several inches thick, screaming and cursing us, and then that flash of light, a magic that at the time I had found every bit as frightening as I had found Sonia. Briefly, I considered whether we should buy a heavy chain that would allow us to capture and restrain a Strigoi, just in case... . But the idea was so awful that my mind simply rejected it. If Jill had been turned, we would just have to deal with that fact then. Not right now.

"Jill's going to be so happy to see us," I said resolutely. "She's going to love those apple muffins Maeve made for us. We should bring some snacks in with us in our pockets, so that we can give her something to eat right away."

"That's a good idea," Eddie said, and I saw him quickly rub at the side of his eye with his thumb. "Those muffins are amazing."

"And made with love," Adrian said. "Maeve wanted to put love into them, because she said it would help us on our journey. She said that apples are used in love spells sometimes, since they are sort of heart shaped, if you look at them the right way." He smiled at me in the rear-view mirror. "Maybe that's why Eve gave one to Adam," he said.

"Biblical scholars believe that Eve gave Adam a pomegranate," I said.

"Are you going to give me a pomegranate, Sage?" Adrian asked.

"I gave you some strawberries just this morning," I said, turning to look at him.

"So you did," Adrian said, his voice warming, and he took my hand again. I found myself smiling.

"Ok, whatever you two are talking about, shut up," Eddie said, but he was smiling, too. Then he let out a low sound that ended in an expletive.

"What?" I said, looking around, but I saw it before Eddie could answer: the distinctive black and white design of a California Highway Patrol car, about three car lengths behind us.

"Ohhhhh," Adrian said, as he saw it too. "Oh, shit."

"It's probably just a local guy on patrol," Eddie said. "I'm not speeding, so he probably won't bother with us. Unless the car's been reported stolen..."

"I messed with the license plate when we stopped for windshield wiper fluid, remember?" Adrian said. "Back up near Sacramento?"

"It was transmission fluid," I corrected, automatically.

"Whatever," Adrian said. "While you two were doing whatever with the car, I was using spirit to make the license plate look different – you know, the 3 looks like an 8 now, stuff like that. So the license plate won't match the missing car's, even if it has been reported stolen."

I relaxed slightly. "Right," I said. "That's good. Thanks for doing that, Adrian."

"Here to help," Adrian said. "Want to live."

I looked back at the cop in the rear view mirror. The car was getting a little closer, it seemed. "You're probably right, Eddie," I said, as much to reassure myself as anything else. "Cop cars have to use the highway too to get from place to place." I glanced at the speedometer. Eddie was, as we'd planned, driving exactly six miles over the speed limit, which put us at slightly slower than the flow of traffic. We were in an average old car, going at a safe speed – there was nothing about us worth noticing. Nothing, that is, unless the patrol officer was looking for _us_, specifically. I thought about what a cop would think of us, driving in a stolen, hot-wired car with a screwdriver for an ignition key, with four stolen guns and a pile of illegal ammunition. It was the kind of thing that could make the front page of local newspapers.

I glanced behind us to watch the patrol car. It was changing lanes frequently, weaving through traffic, clearly exceeding the speed limit. This didn't bode well. Adrian and I looked at each other, both of us asking the other one, _What now? _

Then Adrian seemed to make a decision. "Give me your ring, Sage," he said.

"What are you going to do?" I asked, as I handed it over.

"I have an idea," he said, curtly, and, holding the ring tightly in his hand, closed his eyes and began muttering to himself.

"What's he doing?" Eddie asked.

"Adrian, or the cop?" I replied.

"Either, both – I don't know, Sydney! Just – what's going on?" Eddie said.

"I don't know either," I said. "The cop is getting closer, I think."

"Oh, shit," Eddie said, and then took a deep breath and added in a cooler tone, "Well, if this is how it's going to be, then... we'll deal."

"Right," I said, with more assurance than I felt.

That's when the cop changed lanes one more time, maneuvering directly behind us, and turned on its lights. I said a quick, silent prayer to God, wondering if He cared about me any more these days. Maeve had said that He did. But what did Maeve know about Him?

"Any ideas, Chief?" Eddie asked me, with a hint of bitter humor in his voice.

"Slow down," I said. "Slow down to about 57 miles an hour, and put your right turn blinker on."

Eddie did as I'd told him, saying, "Why are we doing this?"

"Stalling for time," I said. "See, with that truck there..."

Eddie looked to the lane next to us. There was a very large truck moving very slowly in the right lane. By slowing down to the extent that we had, we had made it so that we would not quite be able to get in front of this slow moving truck. But, because it was going almost the same speed as us, we couldn't get behind it, either. All of this became obvious to Eddie within seconds, and he laughed. "We're stuck," he said.

"Right," I said.

Cars from the left lane began pulling in front of us, forcing us to keep to the slow speed we'd adopted. We stayed in the center lane, our turn signal on as if we were planning to pull over to the right any moment. As far as the cop knew, we were just absolutely terrible drivers, unable to negotiate lane changes in a busy highway.

"Now what?" Eddie said.

"Now, we plan a bit," I said. "I have one idea – tell me what you think."

Eddie and I knew we only had a minute, max, to come up with something, and we did the best we could, throwing ideas back and forth and finally settling on a basic plan. Adrian was still concentrating hard on the ring. I wanted to ask what he was doing, but I didn't want to break his concentration. I hoped that whatever he was doing would work with our plan.

Finally, the police car's siren bleeped once, very loudly, then again. Cars on either side of us began moving around, uncertain what they were supposed to be doing. The lane in front of us began to clear out, and the cop actually honked at us, encouraging us to speed up to be able to pass the truck and pull over. At the same time, the truck on our right slowed down significantly to allow us access to the lane.

Our excuses were gone. Our time was up.

Eddie pulled over, bringing the car to a stop on the soft shoulder, and the police car pulled over behind us. Eddie turned the engine off and put the screwdriver behind him on the seat, probably hoping to make it look less obvious that the car had been hotwired.

"Here," Adrian said, handing me back my ring. "Put that on."

"What'd you do?" I asked, slipping it on my finger.

"Woah," Eddie said, the moment I did. "Even _I_ saw that for a second."

"What did you– " I started to ask again.

"It's all to protect you," Adrian said. He pulled two guns from the bag we'd hidden them in as he spoke, and handed them to Eddie and me. "See I figure that – "

"Guys, there're two of them," Eddie said, interrupting Adrian. We all glanced back, and sure enough, there were two cops getting out of the car. "Look," Eddie said, speaking quickly, as he jammed his gun into the back of his pants. "If worse comes to worse, just make sure that you two get away at least. If you have to, leave me behind. They'll arrest me, or whatever, and you two can go on to save Jill."

"That's stupid," Adrian said. "We don't have a chance to save Jill without you."

"We're staying together," I said. Once I'd put my silencer onto my gun, I'd followed Eddie's lead, sticking the thing down the back of my jeans.

"We can take out two as easily as one," Adrian said, which was so blatantly false a statement that neither Eddie nor I bothered to take issue with it.

The cops were approaching the car, slowly, both dressed in their khaki uniforms. One was younger, with a scruffy beard he was probably really proud of. The other looked older, a bit like my math teacher, thin but somehow pink faced.

"We don't kill them," I said, looking at Adrian and Eddie in turn. Over Adrian's shoulder, I saw the bearded cop take his gun out of his holster. "No matter what else we've done or are going to do, we're not going to kill police officers who are just trying to do their jobs. That's not who we are. Right?"

"Right," Adrian said, and I wondered if he was thinking about how he'd accidentally killed David Wheldon, Sr, when he'd told him to _sleep_.

"I'll do my best," Eddie said, grimly.

That's when we heard the voice, amplified by the speaker in the patrol car, saying, "This is Officer Levertov with the California Highway Patrol." It was the thin, pink cop speaking, while his partner held us at gunpoint. "Get out of the car with your hands up, slowly."

Something moved at the edge of my field of vision. I looked up and saw something small and black descending from the sky.


	66. II: What Kind of Monsters?

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 51: What Kind of Monsters?**

"I repeat, get out of the car with your hands up," commanded the amplified voice of Officer Levertov. The cops had parked their car about two car lengths behind ours on the gravely shoulder.

I glanced up one more time at the small black thing as it landed gently on a branch of one of the little ceder trees lining the berm. I smiled a little. So, I wasn't crazy after all. That was comforting to know.

"Well," Eddie said, putting his hand on the door handle. "Let's go then, huh?"

"Wait," I said. "They're going to frisk us first thing. Should we just leave the guns in the car?"

"Take the guns," Adrian said. "I'm no good with a gun myself, but I won't let the cops notice yours." Eddie and I exchanged glances, and Adrian said, "Seriously. That will be my job here, ok?"

"Fine," I said, as Eddie and I both jammed our guns down the backs of our jeans.

"Ok, let's do this," Eddie said. He glanced around the car. "Stay alive, guys."

"Stay alive," Adrian and I repeated, and then we each took a deep breath and opened our doors.

Adrian got out on my side of the car, giving me the chance to ask him quickly, in an undertone, what he'd done to my disguise ring. He leaned close to me and muttered, "You're pregnant," then slammed the car door behind him.

It was hard to focus on the meaning of Adrian's words as I took in the sight of the cops advancing, guns aimed directly at us. Adrian had used the disguise ring to make me look pregnant? "Why?" I whispered.

"Protect you," Adrian said in a harsh whisper, putting his hands up in the air. "They won't suspect you, and they won't shoot you. Not this time."

I nodded, thinking of what had happened the last time we'd been held at gunpoint. Adrian's idea wasn't a terrible one. He was assuming, of course, that a police officer wouldn't shoot at a pregnant woman – a premise I wasn't entirely sure was true. Cops were trained to shoot to kill. This was an essential fact that had to be understood if we were going to get through this. It was what I had discussed with Eddie in those last few moments before we had pulled over. Our number one priority was to stay alive, even if it meant getting arrested.

"Hands on the car," Officer Levertov called to us. He and his partner nodded to each other, and then Levertov began to approach us cautiously, while the younger cop kept back a short distance, his gun trained on us.

"Stand facing the vehicle with your palms on the vehicle itself," called the younger cop. "Officer Levertov will be frisking you. If you'd like to surrender any weapons at this time, it would be a recommended course of action."

"We're not carrying any guns," Adrian said, making eye contact with Levertov, his expression taking on the look of deep concentration that always accompanied his use of compulsion.

"You're not carrying any guns," Levertov said, in a mild tone, freezing in place for a moment.

"Really, we're not," Adrian said, turning to the younger cop, and Levertov began moving again, heading around to the side of the car where Eddie was standing, nearer to the highway.

"Keep your hands on the vehicle," the younger one said, clearly unaffected by Adrian's compulsion, maybe because he was too far away from us. He continued to point his gun at us, holding it with both hands. It struck me as a silly affectation.

Officer Levertov raised his hands to frisk Eddie, and again Adrian looked up to meet the older man's eyes. "We don't have any guns," Adrian repeated in a low, intense voice. "If you notice what you think is a gun, it's not a gun. It's just a weird bone or something. It wouldn't be polite to talk about it."

"Probably against A.D.A. accommodations," I said quickly, and Adrian immediately repeated my words, backing them up with another wave of compulsion. Whether or not Adrian knew what I was talking about, he trusted me enough to just go with it. Later on, I thought, I could tell him about how many federal, state and local officials had been successfully sued under the Americans with Disabilities Act – rightfully so, of course – and how it had become a major source of contention for many government agencies.

"Just a weird bone," Levertov repeated in a low murmur as he frisked Eddie. "He... it's not polite. A.D.A. accommodations. Shit, Captain Fischer would have my ass in a sling." He moved away from Eddie, calling, "He's clean."

"Be careful frisking the girl," Adrian said, staring at Levertov, who looked over at him reflexively. "Wouldn't want to hurt the baby. Captain Fischer wouldn't like that."

"Wouldn't want to hurt the baby," Levertov said. He walked carefully around the front end of the car to reach the passenger side, muttering, "More lawsuits than arrests these days."

"It's so unfair," Adrian agreed, speaking softly. "So many lawsuits. Imagine if you caused a miscarriage? So be extra, extra careful frisking her."

"So unfair," Levertov muttered, and began 'frisking' me, his hands about three inches away from my body on all sides. Apparently, the younger cop was also taken in by the illusion cast by my disguise ring, because he didn't notice anything strange about Levertov's frisking methods. A moment later, Levertov called to his partner, "She's clean, too, Bishop."

"Check the tall one," the younger officer – apparently named Bishop – called back.

"Planning on it," Levertov said, sounding slightly irritated. Moments later, he reported Adrian "clean" as well. Both officers relaxed somewhat, but Bishop still held his gun up at attention.

"So now that you know we're not _packing heat_," Adrian said, obviously relishing the phrase, "can you please tell us what this is about, sirs?"

"Remove your hands from the vehicle and turn around, please, sirs and ma'am," Bishop said, ignoring Adrian's question, so we all did as we'd been told. "And you, sir" – and he gestured to Eddie – "please come over to this side of the vehicle with your traveling companions." Eddie followed directions, and soon the three of us were standing in a line.

"Can you please tell us what you've stopped us for?" I said. "All this stress isn't good for the baby." I put my hands over my abdomen protectively.

"We received reports that the driver of this car may be a wanted criminal by the name of Edison Castile. If either of you gentlemen is Edison Castile, please say so now."

We looked at each other and shrugged.

"My name is Bobby," Eddie said. "Bobby Von Hofe. This is my sister Sara Von Hofe..."

"Recently Steele," Adrian said. "She's Sara Steele now." He put his arm around me affectionately. "We're newlyweds."

_Von Hofe? Steele? Where were Eddie and Adrian getting these names? _I wondered.

"I see," Levertov said. "Congratulations." He didn't sound nearly as sarcastic as I would have expected him to be.

"I bet you're wondering if I knocked her up before or after the ceremony?" Adrian said, conversationally.

"Not our business, sir," Bishop said, and scratched at his beard with exaggerated lack of concern. "What's your first name? You didn't mention."

"John," Adrian said. "John Edward Thomas Steele." Suddenly, I remembered where I'd heard the names "von Hofe" and "Steele" before. Those were the names on the fake IDs that Adrian had gotten for us in Reno. I'd seen them while we were at Chez Gothic Retreat, and they'd looked pretty good, but I didn't think that they would fool a real police officer for long, if at all.

"Great," Bishop said. "We'd like to see some ID, if you don't mind, sir."

"My wallet's in the car," Adrian said. "I think we all left our stuff in the car..." He looked at me and Eddie for confirmation, and we both nodded our agreement.

"Then we'll get it out for you," Bishop said, and moved toward the Grand Marquis.

"You don't have our consent to search the car," I said, immediately.

Bishop froze. "Excuse me?" he said, not looking at me.

"Unless they have a warrant, police officers don't have the right to search anyone's car," I said. "Do you have a warrant, sir?"

Bishop turned to meet my eyes. "Well, aren't you sharp as a tack," he said. "You some kind of lawyer or something?"

"I haven't passed the bar, but I know a little bit," I said. "And I have various personal items in there that I don't really want a stranger looking at."

"Like what?"

"Like personal things. _Female_ things." I jutted my chin out slightly defiantly, as if daring them to ask what kind of "female things" I was talking about. With the specter of disgusting female excretions looming over us, the cops remained silent. "In any case," I said. "We both know the law. You may not search our car without either a warrant or our consent. May I ask why you stopped us?"

"As was stated previously by myself," Bishop said, "we believe that a certain individual who is wanted by law enforcement may be driving this vehicle." He gestured to the Grand Marquis. "It fits the description of a car he was seen driving earlier today."

"This Edward Castle," I said.

"Edison Castile," Bishop corrected, coolly.

"Who is this person, exactly?" I asked. "What did he do? Or am I not allowed to ask that?"

"Who cares?" Adrian said. "Maybe he owes a bunch of overdue library books, maybe he's a serial killer. We don't know him. Can we, like, go? Please?"

Apparently ignoring Adrian, the older officer said, "It's not important what he did. Suffice it to say he's a person of interest in many different crimes."

"Please produce ID," Bishop said. "You may go into your vehicle one at a time to retrieve your ID and hand it over."

"Can you get mine for me, honey?" I said to Adrian. "I can't handle bending over right now."

"You can get mine too, if you don't mind," Eddie said. "I think my wallet's in my backpack."

"Cool," Adrian said. "I don't mind. That all right with you guys?" he added, facing the cops.

"Fine," Bishop said, and Levertov nodded.

Under the cops' watchful eyes, Adrian went into the car and began digging through our stuff. I tried to look bored rather than nervous. A few moments later, Adrian backed out of the car awkwardly, saying, "Ok, got 'em." In his hands were the three fake IDs that he'd gotten for us in Reno. He handed the ID cards to Levertov. "I think you'll find everything is completely in order, sir," he said, and I could almost feel the electricity in the air as he backed up his words with compulsion. "I mean, we're not the people you're looking for. We weren't speeding or anything. How about we just go and you guys go back to looking for this criminal guy?"

"I just have to run these ID cards through the computer first," Levertov said.

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Adrian said.

"I guess I don't, really," Levertov said, smiling vaguely.

"Yes, we do," Bishop said, looking at Levertov with concern. "What's wrong with you, Jerry?"

"Huh?" Levertov said, like someone caught daydreaming in math class.

"Do you really have to run the cards through the computer?" I said, turning to Bishop. "Will it take a long time? To be honest, I have to pee."

"Sweetheart," Adrian said, in a comically exasperated tone.

"Well, I do!" I said, indignantly. "You try squishing a baby against your bladder and see how often you have to pee." I turned back to the policemen. "How long would it take to do the computer thing?"

"Well, ma'am," Bishop said. "It takes just a few minutes. But if everything checks out, then you can be on your way."

"You can be on your way," Levertov repeated, softly.

"Look," I said, still focusing on Bishop. I put my hands on my hips and adopted my most officious alchemist tone. "You've held us at gunpoint, and we weren't so much as speeding. We're just law-abiding citizens, not this serial killer you're looking for." Eddie coughed a little, but I went on. "We've done everything you asked, and I'm up to my eyeballs in pee right now. Can't we just go?"

"Ma'am_,_" Bishop said, in one of those tones that only cops ever seemed able to adopt. The single word managed to communicate annoyance, frustration, determination, boredom, self-righteousness, and condescension. It was almost admirable, the way he did it.

_Tears_, I thought to myself. _Maybe tears would help our case_. And it would be so easy to cry, since all it would mean was relaxing the constant guard I kept on my thoughts. I let myself recall those things that were always just at the edge of my thoughts these days: Mr. Wheldon and his boxcutter and cigarette lighter. Those long nights on Vigil, when I thought I'd go crazy. Those times that Adrian had appeared and then disappeared again. The pain... the fear...

It only took a few seconds, and then my eyes filled with tears and my voice grew quavery. "Please, this has been so scary for me," I said. "I'm worried that it might be hurting the baby. Can't you please just let us go?" Adrian put a consoling arm around me, and I found myself looking over at the small black – well, blue and black – thing that was still perched on a nearby tree branch, watching us with tiny, intelligent eyes. It was comforting to see it still there.

"Ma'am," Bishop repeated, this time in a placating voice. "There are procedures you have to follow when you're an officer of the California Highway Patrol."

"Oh, ease up," Levertov said. He was still holding the IDs in his hand. "They're not the ones we're looking for..."

"If they have nothing to hide, then why don't they want us to run their IDs?" Bishop responded.

"I want to go home," I blurted out, then wiped away tears. "I'm scared. You keep waving guns at us. The baby is pushing against my bladder, everyone driving by is staring at us, and my feet hurt..."

"Don't worry, Sara," Eddie said, and patted my arm in a brotherly way. Then he turned back to the cops. "You guys still haven't even explained why you think that this criminal... person... is driving _our_ car."

"That's classified, sir," Bishop said.

"No it isn't," Levertov said, in a slightly irritated tone. He muttered something under his breath - I'm pretty sure it was "rookie!" - and then went on. "There are cameras installed in every toll booth along here. With facial recognition software, we can match drivers' faces to the faces of wanted criminals. The software matched someone in this car to a criminal, but it was obviously just a mistake."

"What did this guy do?" Eddie asked quickly. "Rob a bank or something?"

"Now _that_, we can't discuss," Bishop said firmly. "Here, give me those IDs, Jerry..."

Levertov leaned forward to hand the cards over to his partner.

"Don't do that," Adrian commanded, with some force, and Levertov froze.

"What?" Bishop said, looking around at us. "What's going on here?"

"You don't have to run the cards," Adrian said, looking directly at Bishop now. "You can just let us go."

Bishop squinted and looked away. "I _can't_ just let you go," he said, scratching at his beard again, this time with agitation. "This was going to be _my_ collar, _my_ perp. I... I'm going to catch Edison Castile. They won't just call me dumb rookie anymore... ."

"We're not the ones you're looking for," Adrian said, in a soft, persuasive voice. "And while you're wasting time with us, the real perp is getting away."

"Oh, no," Bishop said. "I better..." Then he stopped. "What are you doing to me?" He raised his gun and then, to our complete shock, fired once at the ground near our feet. We all jumped as a few bits of gravel scattered in every direction. "Stop messing with my head!" Bishop shouted. On the highway near us, several cars slowed significantly, coming almost to a stop, and there was the sound of screeching brakes.

The sound of the gunshot seemed to jolt Levertov from his cloud of confusion. He looked down at the three IDs in his hand. "I have to run these," he said, uncomfortably. "I have to. It's protocol. I..."

"Give them to me," Bishop said. "I'll run them."

"Go to sleep," Adrian said to Bishop. The young cop wavered slightly on his feet, but then snapped back to attention.

"No way," Bishop said. "What are you trying to pull? Mind control or something? What the fuck?"

Levertov raised his gun slowly. "What's going on here?" he asked, faintly. He seemed bewildered. "Are you guys... doing something... ?"

"They're some sort of weirdos," Bishop said, not taking his eyes off of us. "Don't look directly at the tall one – like, don't look him in the eyes. He does some sort of weird voodoo or some shit. Jedi mind tricks, I don't know. It's fucked up."

"I don't do weird tricks," Adrian said. "I'm a normal person. You like me."

"He's normal," Levertov said, nodding. "I like him."

"_See_?" Bishop said, urgently. "Jerry, they're fucking with you. Don't..."

"Go to sleep," Adrian said, this time to Levertov.

Levertov's face assumed an expression of utter relief, and then he collapsed like an telescope folding inward on itself. Bishop lunged to catch his partner, and while the young officer was temporarily distracted, Eddie and I drew our guns. Bishop quickly lowered his partner to the ground, then whirled around with surprising quickness and turned his gun back on us.

"What did you do to my partner?" Bishop asked. His gun was shaking slightly in his hand, and his eyes were very dark. "And where did you get those guns? Jerry frisked you. What is going on?"

"Your partner is just asleep," Adrian said, calmly, making sure to look away from Bishop. "I could have done much worse. I could have told him to run into traffic or something, and I didn't. I don't want to hurt anyone. But we have to leave."

"That's all we want," I said. "Sir, we don't want to hurt either of you. But we have to leave."

"You can't leave," Bishop said. "I've got back-up coming. You might as well surrender. Surrender or I will shoot all three of you."

"You'd shoot a pregnant woman?" Adrian asked.

"I... I bet you're not even pregnant," Bishop said, but he didn't sound convinced.

"Just let us go..." Adrian said, in a coaxing voice.

Bishop responded by shooting once more at the ground near our feet. We all jumped again. "Next one is at your head, if you say _one more word_, tall boy," Bishop said. He had dropped the affected "police officer" vocabulary. We were now looking at a scared, angry 22-year-old police rookie with a loaded gun.

There was a tense, silent moment as the four of us stood, weapons at the ready.

Then I let my gaze drift just past Bishop's right shoulder to the small thing that was still perched on a branch, watching us. It raised bright black and blue wings, showing off a splotch of bright blue plumage on his chest. From here, I couldn't quite make out his features, but I had seen his tiny face before, seen his one white eyebrow and pert little beak. I smiled. The little bird had flown so far to keep us company.

I looked back over at Bishop. "You have back-up coming?" I said.

"Yes," Bishop said. "So you'd –"

"What makes you think _we_ don't have backup?" I said, interrupting him. I stared at the bird and smiled. "What makes you think he's not right behind you, right now?"

"How dumb do you think I am?" Bishop asked. "You think I'm going to look behind me for even a second?"

"Better for us if you don't," I said. "Right, Zule?"

The bird, hearing his name, flew into the air and let out a sound that sounded uncannily like a human laugh. Then a lot of things happened almost all at once.

Bishop, hearing the laughter and sensing the flurry of movement, spun around, gun in hand. There was another loud gunshot, and a splotch of bright red blood in the blue sky, and then the bird was falling to the ground. At almost the same moment, Eddie leaped forward so fast I almost couldn't see him move, tackling Bishop to the ground. There was a brief struggle, during which Bishop's gun went off again, and then Eddie was on top of Bishop, holding the cop's arms behind his back.

"You ok?" I called to Eddie, as Adrian and I ran over.

"Fine," Eddie said grimly, though I noticed a spreading red patch on his shoulder. "The bird?"

"I got him," Adrian said, as he sat down on the ground near the spot where Zule had fallen, just a few feet away. Gingerly, he picked the bird up and put its little feathered body in his lap.

"Who was that?" Bishop asked, his voice a little muffled as he continued to struggle in Eddie's grip. "Who did I shoot? What was that?" We all ignored him.

I leaned closer to Eddie. "Your shoulder," I said, and tried to examine the wound, but Eddie shooed me away.

"It's no big," Eddie said. "We'll deal later. It doesn't hurt."

"Who did I shoot?" Bishop asked again. "I mean, besides _this_ guy." He gestured to Eddie with his head. "There was someone else..."

"You shot a bird," I said. "Congratulations." While Eddie held Bishop still, I felt around on the cop's belt for his handcuffs.

"A _bird_?" Bishop said. "I shot a _bird_?"

"Yes," I said, pulling the handcuffs from his belt. "You shot a friendly little bird."

"Shit," Bishop said, and fell silent for a moment. He didn't resist as I attached the cuffs to his wrists. Then he asked, in a tentative tone, "Did I kill it?"

I looked over at Adrian. "How's Zule?" I asked. "Is he... alive?"

"He'll be fine," Adrian said, which didn't quite answer my question.

"I can't believe I shot a bird," Bishop said. He seemed irritated rather than remorseful. "What kind of bird was it? A parrot or something? I thought I heard someone laugh."

"Steller's jay," I said. "They can mimic humans and other animals."

"Do you have it trained or something? Who are you weird people?"

"No, and... just shut up, OK?"

"I won't shut up," Bishop said. "What's that tall guy doing with the bird? Is it hurt or dead or what? What are you going to do to me? Who are you people, anyway? What the fuck kind of bird laughs like a human?"

He was warmed up now, and the questions came one after the other, without even a pause for us to answer, so I sighed and resolved to ignore him. While Eddie yanked the cop to a sitting position and checked the handcuffs again, I glanced at the traffic going by. It seemed to have slowed down a bit, and I wondered if people were staring at the strange display taking place on the shoulder. Most likely, they all had their cell phones out, taking photos and calling the police, and it wasn't impossible that someone might decide to stop and get involved.

I glanced over at Adrian. The Moroi's eyes were closed in concentration, and Zule was completely motionless, his bright blue plumage covered with even brighter red blood. I looked away. I knew that Adrian could help the little bird, but the sight of all that blood was more than I could take at the moment.

"Adrian, we don't have a lot of time," I said softly. "Will it take long? To do... whatever you're doing?"

"Just a minute," Adrian said, without moving a muscle.

I nodded to myself, thought for a quick moment, then got to my feet and quickly jogged over to the police car. The windows were rolled down, and I stuck my head inside. The police radio was babbling away to itself. I listened for a moment, which was long enough to determine that yes indeed, there was backup on its way. I briefly considered forcing Bishop to cancel the back-up, but decided that we couldn't trust him on the radio. So I steadied my gun and put one bullet right through the console. The babble of conversation immediately ceased. Then I backed up a little and shot all four of the tires out. My silencer worked perfectly.

"Did you just shoot out my tires?" Bishop asked, as I came back over. Eddie had tied the cops shoelaces together as well, and he sat disconsolately in the gravel, a fresh bruise already beginning to show on his jawline.

"Yes," I said. "And your radio."

"Your gun is completely silent," Bishop said, in a harsh whisper.

"You're very observant," I said.

"I didn't even hear the bullets hitting the tires," Bishop said. "What kind of gun is that?"

"It's a very good gun," I said, and looked over at Adrian, who was still holding Zule, his eyes closed.

Bishop followed my gaze. "What is he doing to that bird?" he asked. "Is he going to eat it or something?"

"Yes," I said. "He eats nothing but raw songbirds. The beak and feathers are his favorite parts."

"You're joking, right?" Bishop said.

I didn't bother to answer.

Then, while all three of us watched, Adrian opened his eyes and smiled. Zule flew out of Adrian's hands, startled, but apparently healthy. The bird flew in a wide circle over our head once, squawking loudly in a series of mimicked sounds – I recognized impressions of Maxie's meow, a hawk's cry, and Maeve's coaxing "birdy bird bird." Then he landed on one of the rear view mirrors of the Grand Marquis and squawked a few more times in a cheerful sort of way.

Bishop, meanwhile, was letting out a string of whispered expletives, some of them quite creative. When the bird settled on the car, Bishop looked at each one of us accusingly. "What _are_ you?" he said. "You're not human. What are you?"

"I'm human," I said.

"You over there, I never saw anyone move that fast," Bishop said, staring at Eddie. "What is up with that? Are you like, a mutant or something?"

"Not to my knowledge," Eddie said.

"What about you, tall boy?" Bishop asked, not quite looking at Adrian. "What the hell are you?"

"I'm no enemy to you," Adrian said. There were blood stains on his pants from where he'd held the bird. "I'm just an ordinary guy who has to do some serious stuff now."

"But before we go," I said, and, catching Adrian's eye, I gestured to Bishop with my head.

Adrian nodded, and kneeling down in front of Bishop, said, "Now listen. I need you to forget about all this."

"Forget?" Bishop said. "No way."

"Come on, look at me," Adrian said, gently. "It'll be easier for you if you forget about all of this."

"I don't want to," Bishop said. "This is... you're... super heroes or something, aren't you? I got it figured out now. Like out of the Avengers or something, I'm the idiot cop who tried to arrest Professor X or Iron Man or something. But I don't want to forget you. This is important. This is... I mean, is it all real? Are there really like... I don't know... super-heroes?"

"We're not super-heroes," I said. "Those are just movies. And we can't let you to talk to other people about us."

"Honestly, man, it's better you forget," Adrian said, gently.

"Where are you going after this?" Bishop asked, closing his eyes tightly. "Can't I go with you? Help you?"

The three of us looked at each other for a moment, and then Eddie said, "You don't want to do that."

"Why not?" Bishop asked. "Are you fighting monsters or something?"

"We might be," Eddie said. "It's possible."

"What kind of monsters?" Bishop asked, faintly.

I spoke up. "Some are your everyday garden variety sociopaths," I said. "And some might be..."

"Some might be the kind of monsters that even a bullet to the head won't kill," Eddie said.

"I'll come with you," Bishop said. "I always wanted to kill a monster."

"Thanks for the offer," Eddie said, with more respect and kindness than I would have guessed. "But it's not safe for you. You don't have the training. Now, just open your eyes and look at my friend, ok? Just look him in the eye. We don't have a lot of time."

There was a short silence, then Bishop said, "I won't tell anyone, I swear. Just let me remember."

The three of us looked at each other again. Eddie sighed gustily, then nodded. Adrian looked at me. I shrugged.

"Fine," Adrian said. "But open your eyes."

Bishop looked up fearfully. "Let me remember," he said again.

"I will," Adrian said. "But you will never, as long as you live, tell anyone about this, ok?"

"Ok," Bishop repeated.

"You don't even want to. It's more fun to have a secret. It'd be no fun to tell anyone. They wouldn't believe you anyway."

"Right," Bishop said, with the preternatural calm of someone in the throes of compulsion. "That's true."

While Adrian reinforced the compulsion not to ever speak of this again, Eddie retrieved our fake IDs from the sleeping Levertov. Then Adrian stood up, dusted off his knees, and said, "Well, bye, man. Good luck."

"Wait," Bishop said. "Please take off the cuffs. I won't hurt you – you took away my gun anyway, right? And you shot out the tires so I can't follow you. Just... don't leave me cuffed like this. There are weirdos out there." He looked at Eddie. "You have some sort of fight training, I can tell. Maybe they taught you about honor or something? Respecting your enemies, or whatever?"

Eddie sighed. "I don't know what to tell you," he said.

"I do," I said. I understood. Alchemists and police weren't that different from each other, after all. Both of us were sworn to protect the innocent from monsters, weren't we? "I have an idea."

I got my alchemist kit out from the back seat and retrieved the compound I'd used to dissolve Eddie's handcuffs. Then, working as quickly as I could, I carefully applied some to one of the links in the middle of the chain. "This will take about three minutes to work," I said. "But after that, if you pull your hands apart, the chain will break. Ok?"

"Ok," Bishop said, uncertainly. "Um. Thanks, I guess."

"It works, really," Eddie said. "I know from personal experience."

"Oh," Bishop said. He seemed somewhat relieved by Eddie's reassurance. "Ok." There was an awkward pause, and then Bishop said, "You better go before the back-up comes. You probably only have a minute or two."

We agreed and, muttering quick goodbyes, we turned to get back into the car.

"Good luck," Bishop called. He sounded exhausted and somehow very young, younger than we were, even.

"You too," I said. "Keep doing your job. I hope you collar your next perp."

"I hope that you uh, kill the monsters," Bishop said faintly.

"We do too," Adrian said.

I got into the driver's seat, and Adrian and Eddie got into the back, Zule ducking into the car at the last moment. There didn't seem much point in kicking the bird out, and I knew that we didn't have any time to spare. So I put the car in gear and we drove away, the other cars on the highway giving way to us respectfully.

_A/N: _

_Sorry-not-sorry for the Jay-Z reference. Couldn't help myself. _


	67. II: The Alarm Bell

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 52: The Alarm Bell**

The image of Officer Bishop sitting disconsolately on the gravel next to his unconscious partner stayed with me as I drove away. But I had to focus my attention on my driving. I had urged the old Mercury up to just past 90 miles an hour, which was about as fast as the old car could go, and the other cars on the highway were just moving obstacles to me now.

I glanced back at my friends in the rear-view mirror and saw Adrian examining Eddie's shoulder. "You two alright back there?" I asked, then I changed lanes to get around a slow moving minivan. "Is Eddie hurt bad?"

"I'm fine," Eddie said.

"The wound doesn't look too bad," Adrian said. "Where are we going, by the way?"

"Not sure yet," I said. "We need to get off this highway ASAP, and we need to get a new car. Can you fix Eddie's shoulder?"

"Yes," Adrian said. He sounded tired. "It's a pretty clean looking wound."

"The bullet went straight through," Eddie said. "Don't think it hit anything important. But I am getting really fucking sick of getting shot."

"Wait, what?" I exclaimed, and swerved onto the hard berm for a moment to get around a truck. "From how you were talking before, I thought the bullet had just grazed you."

"It's fine," Eddie said. "Really. If we weren't heading into another fight, I wouldn't ask Adrian to waste his spirit energy healing it."

"Why waste energy healing a little ol' _bullet_ _wound_?" Adrian asked, dryly. "Now, all of you, shut up please, I have to concentrate."

Zule, who was perched on a small hook near the back door, squawked in misguided agreement.

"You too, Bird-boy," Adrian said. "Shh."

So, for a minute or two, the only sounds were those of cars honking at us or swerving out of the way as I continued pushing the old Mercury to its limit. As I drove, I mentally tallied up all the spirit energy Adrian had used lately. He'd healed Max's injuries and Zule's twisted leg, and then had actually brought the little jaybird back from the dead. On top of that, he had infused the disguise rings with power, and had used compulsion on several people. He had spent a lot of energy for someone who had recently almost died, and I wondered how long it would be until the after-effects kicked in. I hoped that it would be after we had rescued Jill and made our successful getaway. When we were someplace warm, someplace quiet, someplace safe, I'd take Adrian to our forest and clear his mind of all that painful darkness.

"Oh, man, that feels weird," Eddie said, startling me from my thoughts. In the rear view mirror, I saw my dhampir friend moving his arm around experimentally.

"Weird good, or weird bad?" Adrian asked.

"Good, I guess," Eddie said. "I mean, it doesn't hurt anymore, so that's good."

"So you admit that it did hurt at the time?" Adrian asked.

"Maybe a little," Eddie said, grudgingly. "Anyway, thanks for healing me. I want to be at my best for our next... adventure. Whatever that turns out to be."

"Not a problem," Adrian said, and Zule squawked again. "Will you hush?" Adrian said, and the bird folded its wings complacently. "Thank you," Adrian said. "Don't make me sorry I saved you, Bird-boy."

Zule let out a low whistle, flapped his wings once, then settled back down.

"Was he... dead?" Eddie asked. "I mean, did you heal him, or did you..."

"Yeah, he was kinda dead," Adrian said, uncomfortably. "I couldn't just leave him like that. The little guy had flown a really long way just to... I don't know, watch out for us or something. And he provided a necessary distraction at just the right moment. I don't know if we would have gotten away from that cop without him. Didn't seem fair to let him die."

"I still don't understand how he flew so far," Eddie said. "Or why."

"He probably kept to the thermal currents," I said. "Birds can glide on those when they fly long distances. It's almost like being on a moving platform at an airport. As for why? That's a better question."

"Maeve sent him," Adrian said. "And - shit, Sage, that was some close driving just now..."

"There were at least six inches between us and that Honda," I said defensively. "Don't complain unless you see sparks, OK?"

Adrian laughed that honey laugh of his. "Sure thing," he said. "I trust you."

"Did she tell you she was going to send Zule after us?" I asked.

"Maeve?" Adrian said. "Not exactly. She just said that she had her spies here and there and that she'd be looking after us."

"Sounds like something out of _Lord of the Rings,_" Eddie said.

"It does, a bit," I said.

"Can you carry us out of Mordor, little bird?" Eddie asked Zule. "Like the giant eagles?"

"_Do I look like I can lift a 180 pound dhampir_?" Adrian replied in a high-pitched voice, as if speaking for Zule.

"Do you really hear his thoughts?" Eddie asked.

"No, of course not," Adrian said. "I was just joking around. Trying to lighten the mood. That's my job in this rag-tag group of freedom fighters."

"Can he hear _your_ thoughts?" I asked. "I mean, if you brought him back to life, then he would be spirit-bound to you, right?"

"I guess he might be," Adrian said. "Can you hear my thoughts, Bird-boy?"

Zule chirped a few times, but he might just have been commenting on the fact that everyone in the car had been forced to lean slightly to one side as I swerved out onto the left shoulder in order to pass an SUV. A few cars honked at us for that maneuver, but neither Eddie nor Adrian said a word.

"God, I wish I could talk to Lissa right now," Adrian said, once we'd all regained our center of gravity. He nonchalantly began climbing into the front seat, a delicate maneuver even in a car that wasn't going 30 miles an hour over the speed limit. "For lots of reasons, obviously, but... Wow, Sage, good dodge there... it'd be cool to talk to her about her crow. Did you ever hear that story?"

"No," I said.

"She revived a dead crow, and afterward it followed her around for a while, but I don't know what eventually happened with it. I wish I'd asked her at the time." He had finally settled into the front seat, and he carefully fastened his seat-belt.

Eddie made a thoughtful noise. "I remember that now," he said. "I don't know what happened with that crow, either. But it wasn't any problem for Lissa, I know that much."

Now that Adrian had moved to the front seat, Zule fluttered his way up to the front as well and perched on the dashboard, clinging to one of the vents with his little talons.

"I wouldn't want Bird-boy here to end up with spirit darkness," Adrian said, and sighed. "What are we going to do with him? We can't let him follow us around forever. He'll get hurt again, sooner or later." He reached out tentatively to stroke Zule's head and the bird flapped his wings in agitation. Adrian withdrew his hand.

"You can tell him to fly back to Maeve," I suggested. "Next time we stop. Maybe he'll understand the command to go back to her, especially if it's coming from you."

"Hey, Bird-boy," Adrian said. "Do you want to go back home to Maeve?" Zule made no reply, and Adrian shrugged and pulled his itinerary from the pocket of his windbreaker. "Where are we?" he asked, examining the map I'd printed out. "How far will he have to fly?"

"We're on Highway 5," I said. "Near the turn off for Coalinga."

"Hmmm," he said. "Oh, I see... we're almost there. You're going to have a long flight back, Bird-boy." Zule fixed him with his bright black eyes but made no sound. "Well," Adrian added. "Meanwhile, we're what, half an hour from the...um... place?"

"More like 45 minutes," I said. "Those little roads there along the coast, you can't get up much speed there."

"So we should still get there by 6 o'clock or so?" Adrian said.

I glanced at the dashboard clock and saw it was just after 5. It had taken longer than I'd thought to do everything we'd had to do today – get the car, stop for blood, stop for guns, stop for food, stop to fight with police officers... I sighed. "Maybe," I said. "We have to swap cars. But hopefully that won't take too – "

"Shh," Adrian said suddenly, urgently, and I fell silent. "You hear that, Eddie?" he whispered, a moment later.

"Hear what?" Eddie asked, speaking softly.

"Listen," Adrian said.

We drove along for another few moments in relative silence. Even Zule kept his opinions to himself for a moment. Then Eddie groaned.

"What is it?" I asked, as I passed a red Porsche, the driver of which made a rude hand gesture at me.

"Sirens," Eddie said. "About ten miles behind us, and gaining."

"Crap," I said. "Ok. Let's see." I scanned the road on each side of us, looking for any way to get off this road – an access road, a turn off, an exit. But there was nothing. On both sides of the road, there was a drainage ditch about four or five feet deep, and just past the ditch there was a wall, about seven feet tall, the kind commonly used to block road noise from adjacent communities. There was no way to drive off the road, and the cops were closing in on us. I was about to give in to one of my extremely infrequent urges to swear when a thought struck me. "Eddie, would you be able to climb that wall?" I asked.

Eddie paused to think. "Yeah, I should," he said. "There are some hand holds and stuff. Sure. But you don't – "

"Would you be able to get me and Adrian up the wall, too?"

"I... if I have to, I will, Syd. I mean, I can pull you up, and Adrian's pretty tall, so he can probably do pretty well on his own. But why do you want to – "

"We can't stay on this road," I said. "Or in this car. I think we should leave the car in the ditch, and then climb over that wall. We can find some other car over there. It's probably a residential neighborhood, judging by that wall."

"Won't the cops just follow us?" Adrian asked.

"The embankment is steep here," I said. "They may not notice the car in the ditch. And if they do, they wouldn't guess that we could climb a wall like that. They'd probably be looking for us along the highway."

"True," Eddie said, thoughtfully. "Hell, Syd, let's do it. The sirens are getting louder."

"Adrian, what do you think? Can you climb that wall?"

"Sure, Sage," Adrian said, in an exhausted tone. "Why not? I climb walls at home all the time. It's the hot new dance craze that all the kids are –"

"Adrian, I love you, but _please_," I said. "Ok, so we're in agreement? We can get over this wall? We're doing this?"

"Yes," Eddie said, and Adrian offered a half-hearted 'yes' of his own.

"Then hold on, ok?" I said, and without bothering to signal, I turned off onto the shoulder, drove a short distance in the gravel, then let the car roll down about five feet down the embankment.

"Shit," Adrian said, as Zule began fluttering around the car, squawking loud disapproval. "Warn a guy next time, will you, sweetheart?"

"I _did_ warn you," I said, as we reached the bottom of the ditch. Once we'd come to a stop, I cut the engine completely. "Let's go."

Without much discussion, we quickly grabbed our bags and got out of the car. Up close, the wall looked taller and smoother than I'd thought it was, but Eddie didn't seem dismayed. He immediately shimmied his way to the top, and then Adrian and I threw him our bags, which he carefully dropped down on the other side of the wall. Then Adrian lifted me up as high as he could, and Eddie grabbed my hands and pulled me to the top.

Adrian proved to be a lot stronger than he had insinuated that he was, climbing up without much help from Eddie. "I _did_ do that push up last week," he grunted, as he hoisted himself over the top of the wall. "That's probably what did the trick."

Once we were all safely at the top of the wall – including Zule, who perched on a nearby tree limb – we had to find a way to get back down again. Eddie began carefully lowering himself down to the ground, and while he did that, I took a quick moment to survey the highway and the old Grand Marquis, stuck in the ditch.

"Good car," Adrian said, noticing my gaze. "What did you name it, again?"

"Azura," I said, looking down at it. "She's a grand old dame."

"She probably never had a driver who appreciated her as much," Adrian said. I looked up at him and saw that there wasn't a trace of sarcasm or humor in his expression.

I nodded. "Probably not," I said. "But I guess – " and I stopped speaking because now even _I_ could hear the sirens. "_Crap_," I whispered.

"OK, Adrian, I'll talk you down," Eddie said. "Then we can help Sydney together."

Moroi had been conditioned to respect what dhampirs said in times like this, and even Adrian, for all his snark, was no exception to this rule. Eddie told Adrian where to place his hands and feet, and Adrian made use of his long arms and legs to make his way to the ground. Meanwhile, the sirens were getting louder and louder, and I was starting to feel very exposed at the top of the wall, hoping that no one driving by noticed me sitting there.

Once Adrian was down on the ground, he and Eddie held up their hands to form a sort of platform for me to step down onto. Just a year ago, the mere thought of trusting a Moroi and a dhampir to be my living stepping stones would have made me twitch, but now there were few people I trusted more than these two guys. I stepped down carefully, then sort of fell into Eddie's arms.

"Good fall," Eddie said, approvingly. "Just like I taught you."

"Hands off my girl," Adrian said, with mock annoyance.

Eddie smiled, but Zule, who had fluttered down to the ground, let out a sound that sounded a lot like a cat hiss. I realized that maybe Adrian's annoyance wasn't quite as "mock" as I had thought. Eddie looked at the bird, then at Adrian. Adrian, for his part, looked down at his bag and began digging through it, pulling out a bottle of sunscreen a moment later.

"Listen, Bird-Boy," he said, beginning to apply some of the lotion. "We have to have a little heart-to-heart, you know? Like, we really have to talk this out, because –"

But then the sound of the sirens grew suddenly almost deafening, and the three of us flattened ourselves against the wall as the police cars passed by us on the highway. Adrian covered his sensitive ears with his hands, and Zule flew up into a tree with a high-pitched squeal. We stayed frozen in place as the sirens grew even louder and then slowly dropped in both volume and tone again, like the scream of someone growing tired. I put one hand on Adrian's arm and forced myself to breathe in and out as I looked for the first time around at where we were. It was clearly a backyard, with a sandbox, a swingset, and a smattering of plastic toys in bright primary colors. Across a span of green lawn, there was a small house, light blue with white trim.

After a few tense moments, Eddie said, in a soft, wondering tone, "I think they passed us. It worked, Syd. Good thinking."

"That's why I love her," Adrian said.

"Um, thanks," I said. "Anyway. Uh, so we need a car..."

"We can take these people's car," Eddie said. "Come on."

"Looks like they have young children," I said, looking around the yard. "And they don't look too rich to me."

"You're saying you don't want to take their car?" Eddie asked.

"I'm not saying that, exactly," I said. "I just... ." I shrugged. "I hate this kind of thing."

"I don't _want_ to steal their car," Eddie said. "But we have to do stuff like this if we're going to save Jill."

"Let's take a look at the neighborhood," Adrian said. "Maybe there's one really rich house and we can steal their car."

"Maybe they don't even have a car," I said, hopefully. I don't know why the sight of the little sandbox and swingset filled me with a feeling of remorse, but it did.

We'd almost reached the driveway – which appeared to be empty – when the back door of the house opened and a woman came out. She was in her early 30s, with light brown hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, and she balanced a fussy toddler on her hip.

"Excuse me," she said. "Who are you, and why are you in my yard?"

"We're no one," Adrian said, in the clear, persuasive tone he adopted when he was using compulsion. "You won't remember seeing us."

"Oh," the woman said calmly, nodding. "Right. That's good."

"Where's your car?" Adrian asked.

"My husband is late getting home from work. He's stuck in awful traffic. He has the car."

"Does anyone on this street have more than one car?" Adrian asked.

"The Cunninghams," the woman said, immediately. The baby had begun to pull on her hair, but she didn't seem to notice. "I hate them. They give kids raisins on Halloween. Who _does_ that?"

"Jerks," Adrian said. "And they have two cars?"

"Yep," she said. "Two cars, no kids, no pets. What I'd do with an extra car... ." She sighed.

"Are they home now?" Adrian asked.

"Probably the guy is," she said. "Works at home."

"Do they live far?"

"Three doors down." She pointed. "Green house."

"Thanks," Adrian said. "You've been super helpful. And you won't remember us later. It was a boring evening, waiting for your husband to come home."

"Right," the woman said. "I'm glad. I was worried you guys were the criminals the police were looking for."

"It's great that no one was here and you're all safe," Adrian said. "Go on back inside..."

The woman turned to go, but I grabbed Adrian's arm. "Stop her," I said.

"Wait," he commanded, and the woman turned around again and waited for another command. The toddler began to whine.

"Ask her why her husband is so late getting home," I said in an undertone.

He repeated my question, and the woman said, "There's a roadblock on all the exits from Highway 5. He just called me ten minutes ago. They're searching everyone's car and it's taking forever."

"Do you know any more about that?" Adrian asked.

"Not really," the woman said. "Just that it's three people they're looking for." She looked at us with widening eyes. "There are three of you," she said.

"No there aren't," Adrian said. "You thought you heard something outside, but it was just your mind playing tricks on you. You're going to go back inside now, and you'll forget us the minute you go back inside."

"Right," the woman said again, and went back into the house without saying goodbye.

"Shit shit shit shit," Adrian said. "Roadblock?"

"We'll figure something out," Eddie said. "We need the car first."

Adrian nodded. "Sage, can you deal with the roadblock thing?"

"I guess so," I said, and part of my mind began setting to work on the problem. It didn't seem too difficult.

"Good," Adrian said. "Then let's go to these people's house and steal their car. The fuckers give out raisins on Halloween? They deserve to get their car stolen."

"I like raisins," Eddie said, mildly, but he'd already begun walking in the direction the woman had indicated.

"Then you're weird," Adrian said, following Eddie around the side of the house and onto the driveway.

"They might be really nice people," I said, taking Adrian's hand as we reached the sidewalk.

"No way," Adrian said. "They're clearly evil. Raisins, Sage. _Raisins_."

* * *

><p>The man who answered the door at the Cunningham's house proved to be extremely susceptible to compulsion, and gave us the key to his gray Toyota Corolla without any fuss. He also, when we asked, gave us a large throw blanket from his couch, then promised to forget what we looked like.<p>

Eddie and I agreed that Adrian should drive, while we rode in the back seat, the blanket ready in case we came to a roadblock. And of course, we came to a roadblock not long after. The cop who peered into the window was curious about our car at first, but after Adrian's influence, the cop didn't take any particular notice of the large, lumpy pile of blanket in the backseat, or even find it at all peculiar that a Steller's Jay was perched on the rear-view mirror. He just waved us along.

So we made our way along the coast, getting closer and closer to our destination. As we did, a weight began to settle on our shoulders. Not only did we not know what we were going to find when we got there, but the sun was getting lower and lower on the horizon. The fight with the cops, the switch to the new car, getting through the roadblock – all this had taken a big bite out of our day. We had been hoping to get to the compound by 4 or 5 pm at the latest. But when we finally got to the dirt road turn off I'd marked in our itinerary, it was 6:45 pm, and the shadows were very long.

Adrian pulled the car off the road by the turn off to give ourselves time to quickly practice with our guns before we went in. While Eddie and I set up a makeshift gun range with empty water bottles, Adrian tried to talk to little Zule, who had perched on a tree branch at just the right height to stare Adrian in the eye. I couldn't help but listen in to their "conversation" as I worked.

"Seriously," Adrian was saying. "Whatever is up there –" he pointed up the dirt road – "it's not cool for anyone, much less a little bird like you. I mean, I wouldn't be going up there myself if I didn't have to."

Zule peered at him earnestly and chirped a few times, but didn't move.

"I like you, man," Adrian said. "Really. I never uh, got to know a bird before. You're cool."

Zule preened a little, cleaning a few of his wing feathers with his beak.

"But it's not safe up there. You have to go home to Maeve. You remember her, right? Like, your little bird brain can hold on to two memories at once, right?"

Zule squawked and flapped his wings once, but still made no move to fly away.

"Go on," Adrian said, pointing vaguely northeast. "Go back home to Maeve. I bet she'll give you a bunch of peanuts."

Zule didn't move.

"Come on, Bird-Boy, you gotta," Adrian said. He sighed, then looked over at me. "You two done over there?" he asked.

"Guess so," I said.

Eddie nodded his agreement. "You want to go first, Ivashkov?"

"With my luck, Bird-boy here will fly directly in front of a bullet," Adrian said.

"Tell him to come sit by me," I said, sitting down on a rock. I patted the space next to me. "Visualize him right here, with me feeding him a treat, and sort of... _think_ that image at him."

Adrian faced Zule directly, stared into the bird's tiny black eyes, and began muttering softly, "Like _this_, Zule. Like _this_. You next to Sydney. A treat, Bird. A _treat_."

Zule let out a surprised squawk, then in a flurry of movement, flew over and landed on the rock next to me. I got a small piece of muffin out of my bag and gave it to him, and he chirped and pecked at it.

"Wow," Eddie breathed. "Just... wow."

"Yeah," Adrian said. His eyes were wide with surprise. "Wow. If things were different, I think I'd keep the little guy around."

I looked down at the bird, and he looked up at me, his head turning side to side as he... what? _Thought_ about me? Did he think, the way people thought? I fed him a few more muffin crumbs to keep him by my side, and said, "OK, Adrian, now's your chance to practice."

"Goody goody," Adrian said in a bland tone, and took out his gun. He lined up his first shot and pulled the trigger, then let out an exclamation. "I still can't believe how well these silencers work," he said. "I can't even hear the air whistle around the bullet as it flies."

"And I couldn't hear the bottle as it hit the ground," said Eddie. "Oh yeah, that's because you missed."

Adrian gave him the finger, then tried again. He missed once more, adjusted his aim slightly, and tried again. This time, he hit the bottle. The other four bottles went down one after the other. He blew away the smoke from the barrel and winked at me. "Do I look hot, Sage?"

I sighed. "It is a pretty warm day," I said.

"OK, my turn," Eddie said, and set the bottles back up. He missed his first shot, but then all five bottles went down without a hitch. When it was my turn, Adrian looked after Zule for a minute, letting the bird perch on his arm, and it took me 11 tries to hit the 5 bottles, which I thought was pretty good for a human getting used to a new gun. Adrian and Eddie had supernatural abilities on their side. All I had was patience and a lot of training.

"Well done, sweetheart," Adrian said, with about as much enthusiasm as anyone could muster under the circumstances.

"Thanks," I said, and glanced at the road that lead to the HQ compound. "So, are we ready to go?"

"Let me try to send Zule home first," Adrian said. The bird was still perched on Adrian's arm, and hearing his name, he seemed to perk up. "Listen," Adrian said, squinting intently at the little bird. "_This_ is where you want to be. This place, the one I'm picturing in my mind. Maeve's place. Remember her? The girl I'm picturing?" Zule fluttered his wings a few times in a surprised sort of way. "This place," Adrian repeated. "Maeve is there. She's going to give you peanuts. Know those things? They smell like this, the memory I have. And taste like this. Remember those?"

Zule flew up, fluttered in a circle around Adrian's head and landed again on Adrian's arm, staring at Adrian and squawking.

"Maeve," Adrian repeated. "You know her. She looks like this. Go back home to her. Tell her Pumpkin's fine. We're all fine. And we'll all come visit soon." Adrian sighed. "Go on, get your peanuts, Bird-boy. Fly as far as you can tonight, sleep somewhere nice, and fly the rest of the way in the morning, when you crazy birds love to wake up and start chirping really loudly and wake up innocent people with hangovers." Then Adrian shook his arm, forcing Zule into flight. The bird protested, then flew in a wide circle over all of our heads. After that, he let out a few _rat-at-at_ sounds, and took off into the air, flying higher and higher until he was almost out of sight.

"He's going home to Maeve?" Eddie murmured.

"I think so," Adrian said. "Anyway, he's not staying here. That's the main thing. He's safer anywhere else but here. Come on, let's go... do what we have to do."

Eddie and I nodded and we turned to go.

Adrian got into the driver's seat, just in case we ran into any compulsion-susceptible guards, and Eddie and I rode in the back. It all felt like a dream to me as we started driving up the dirt road that led to the building where we thought Jill was probably being held captive.

Adrian said, "Got any cool, like, appropriate Bible quotes, Syd?"

I paused. "There's this one," I said. " 'The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are bold as a lion.' Proverbs."

"That's a nice one," Adrian said. "What's the one about the valley of the shadow of no-food?"

I recited the famous Psalm 23, and Adrian and Eddie muttered along occasionally – they knew more of it than I would have thought. I was about to launch into a bit of Corinthians when Adrian hit the brakes suddenly, putting a hand on my arm.

"What is it?" I whispered.

"You don't hear it?" Adrian whispered.

"I hear it," Eddie whispered. "Oh, _fuck_."

I paused, then hit the button to roll down the window. I could hear it now – a faint alarm bell, coming from up the hill - from the place that we were headed. Adrian tapped on the gas, and the car began to crawl forward again. None of us spoke, and as we got further and further up the hill, the alarm got louder and louder.

After a few minutes, we came to a guard station. But the booth was empty, its door left open as if someone had left in a hurry. About 100 meters past the guard station, a brown-shingled building was visible in the last rays of the evening sun. It had few windows, and aside from a small sign reading "The Human Quorum" on the front door, there was almost no decoration. As we listened, I heard what sounded an awful lot like a scream of terror coming from inside.

"I don't think we're the first unexpected visitors they've had today," Eddie said, softly.

"No," I said. "Me either."

I pulled my gun out of my holster, but it was my stomach that felt full of lead.


	68. II: Hungry

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 53: Hungry**

There were several cars parked in the small gravel lot near the entrance to the building – a few Toyotas, Fords, and Hondas, and one little lime green Kia – but as luck would have it, the car that we ended up parking next to was a very familiar Jeep Grand Cherokee.

"Caliban," I said, as we got out of our car. "Oh my God, guys, it's Caliban."

"Caliban?" Eddie repeated, as we all put on our backpacks, which we'd all lightened as much as we could, taking only the few necessities we wanted to have with us in case we couldn't make it back to the car.

"Caliban is what Sydney named the car that they took her to Truckee in," Adrian explained.

"Is that it?" Eddie asked, pointing.

I nodded. "And if it's here, then most likely one of the Wheldon brothers is here," I said. "Maybe both of them."

"I hope I get a chance to punch them in the face," Adrian said. "Or the nuts. After what they did to you... ."

"Yeah, well, I hope that we don't have to punch anyone," I said, but I imagined myself, spinning like a ballet dancer, as my foot connected with a sensitive part of Wheldon anatomy.

Eddie shrugged. "We'll do what we have to do," he said. "Come on." He jerked his head in the direction of the front door. "We don't have much time before sundown."

I glanced up at the sky. We had about 45 minutes of daylight left. "Lord protect us," I whispered. I drew my gun again, then slipped my hand into the small velvet bag to quickly touch the thing that Maeve had given me. It was somehow even more reassuring than the gun was.

Then Adrian took my hand, and the three of us walked down the path that led to the front door of the building, gravel crunching underneath our feet. There seemed no point in trying to walk quietly, since the alarm was so loud.

Unlike the modern office building that the Truckee branch of the HQ was housed in, this building was ugly – low, squat, covered partly in beige stucco and partly in brown shingles. It was surrounded by patchy, almost colorless grass, and by a shallow ditch that appeared to circle the entire building. It all looked like every branch library and elementary school built in the early 1970s. For some reason, the fact that I was heading into a potentially dangerous fight inside such an architecturally revolting building was offensive to me.

We crossed a short bridge that led over the little ditch and then continued along the pathway toward the front door.

"Smell that?" Adrian asked.

"What?" I asked.

"Chemicals," Adrian said.

"Fire accelerant," Eddie said. He sniffed deeply and made a face. "I think it's coming from that drainage ditch."

Adrian looked behind him. "Definitely is," he said. "And I don't think it's a drainage ditch. It's more like a... a..."

"A moat?" I suggested, hoarsely. "But meant to be filled with fire, rather than water?"

"Seems that way," Adrian said.

"OK, fuck this," Eddie said, stopping short. "I want you two to wait in the car. I had been thinking I needed all the help I could get, but this is too dangerous for a Moroi and a human. I want you two to stay safe out here. I'll go find Jill and bring her out."

I drew in a breath, trying to think of the right words to say in my indignation. Adrian, seeing the look on my face, spoke up. "I don't _want_ to go in there. But as it turns out I'm good with a gun, and of the three of us, I'm most likely to be able to find Jill. And Sydney's valuable too, for a lot of reasons. I, personally, want her by my side in there, and not just for the usual reasons. So we're staying together – unless you _want_ to wait in the car, Sydney?" He looked at me.

"I'm not waiting anywhere," I said, and began striding up the path.

"Sydney," Eddie said. "Wait!" But I was already almost a meter ahead of him, so he and Adrian jogged to catch up.

I was the first to the door, so I tried turning the knob. Predictably, it didn't budge, so I got out some door-buster compound and began applying it to the lock.

Eddie sighed. "Thanks, Sydney," he said. "That'll take less energy than trying to bust down the door."

"You're welcome," I said, stiffly.

Adrian sniffed the air again. "You know what's weird?" he said. "I don't smell much electricity. Normally, there'd be tons of electricity coming out of someplace like this. I think their power is out."

"You can _smell_ electricity?" Eddie asked, surprised.

"I can smell the ozone particles," Adrian said, with a shrug that seemed to say, _Can't you_?

"So, the alarm is blaring," I said, "and the power's out, and no one so far has come out to greet us. Any theories, guys?"

"They got loose," Eddie said, simply, and I knew immediately who he meant by "they."

"Right," I said, and my voice wobbled a little. The locking mechanism began to fizzle and drip as the compound started to work. I put the door-buster back in my kit, and then before I put the kit away, I pulled out a small bottle that I thought I might need soon and put it in my pocket.

"You're sure you want to do this?" Eddie asked me and Adrian. "I can handle it on my own."

"We're sticking together," Adrian said.

"I'm not waiting in the car," I said, hating the tremor in my voice. "But before we go in, I um, I wanted to say that I'm glad I know you guys." As usual, my words, so useful for explaining the fall of Rome or the right way to factor a quadratic, failed me when it was time to say something more important. "Um. You're the best friends I ever had."

"Same here," Adrian said. "I love you guys. Even you, Castile."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "Back at you, Ivashkov. You too, Syd."

Then the locking mechanism fell out of its casing and landed on the ground with a muted thunk.

"Now let's go get Jill, and as many other Moroi as we can," Eddie said. And with a quick movement, he opened the door.

I think all of us were expecting something scary – a booby trap, a flying dart, a pack of wild dogs ready to attack. But all we were met with was a silent, dimly lit space, about the size of a doctor's waiting room. The evening light was filtering in through Venetian blinds, casting stripes of pale light on desks, a row of coat hooks, and a few filing cabinets. Cracked and stained linoleum lined the floor, and the concrete walls were coated with a thick, industrial layer of pale green paint. A doorway straight ahead led to a dim hallway, the end of which I couldn't see.

There was also, I realized with a start, a body lying on the floor a few feet away from us. He was lying face down on the ground, his limbs splayed in every direction, like a child's doll that had been tossed aside casually. He was wearing a red uniform with a large HQ logo on the back.

"Adrian," I whispered, pointing.

"Dead," Adrian said, immediately. "Castile – look at his neck."

Eddie drew in a deep, slow breath. "Fuck," he whispered, as he exhaled.

"Strigoi?" I whispered, my free hand moving to the cross that hung around my neck while I tightened my grip on my gun.

"The guy's been drained," Adrian said. "Puncture wound on his neck. So... yeah. Looks like Strigoi to me."

Eddie quickly began to take stock of the room – checking behind desks and inside closets – and I turned to Adrian. "Watch out for me a sec, OK?" I said, and bent to examine the body.

"Got it," Adrian said, moving to stand a few feet away from me, his gun raised in anticipation.

I turned the body so that the man was face up. I had to remind myself that this was someone who had chosen to join the HQ, someone who had participated in the abduction of innocent Moroi for no decent reason, but still, it was difficult to look at his pale face and lifeless eyes. He didn't appear to be much older than me. I felt around at his waistband and in his pockets and found an empty gun holster, a set of car keys, and a wallet. The wallet turned out to be almost empty except for some money, which I put in my pocket. The car keys were marked with the Kia logo, and I thought of the lime green Kia I'd seen in the lot, which was now an orphan.

"No ID," I said, standing up. "Guess we should –"

"There's someone in the hall," Adrian said suddenly, urgently. "He ducked into one of the rooms."

Eddie's posture changed. "Who's there?" he called, which is more or less the opposite of what I would have done.

A figure appeared in the shadowy hall. "Eddie Castile," said a voice. "Fancy meeting you here. I didn't know these assholes were catching dhampirs too. I thought they were sticking to royals." There was something almost unbearably cold about the voice, and the little hairs on my neck and arms stood up straight while the rest of me froze.

"Is that... ." Eddie whispered.

"Yeah, it's me," said the voice. "Hey man. Long time no see. What 'cha been up to since graduation?"

"Jesse Zeklos," Eddie said. "Oh, man. I'm so sorry."

"I'm not," said the voice, and the figure came into the light. He was tall and slender, like a Moroi, and he must have once been really good-looking. But he had a sly smile that would have made me uncomfortable even if it hadn't been stretched over dead pale lips, and his eyes were ringed with red. "Really, Castile," he said. "This is the best thing that ever happened to me. They've been lying to us. All of us. They tell us, 'Oh no, don't do this, don't do that.' They tell us not to smoke or drink or have sex, because they don't want us to have any fun. Turns out they were lying about this, too."

"They also told us not to play with fire or to drop knives on our feet," Eddie said. "They weren't lying then, and they weren't lying about being Strigoi."

"How do you know?" the Strigoi asked. "Why don't you come over here? I'll help you find out first-hand."

Eddie held out his stake. "You know what I'm capable of," he said. "Let's see you try."

The Strigoi – Eddie had called him Jesse – just laughed. "Oh, cool," he said. "My first Guardian kill. But don't you want to catch up, first? Have you heard from Mia Rinaldi lately?"

"Shut up," Eddie said.

"She didn't shut up when I was fucking her," Jesse said, and began moaning in a bad impression of female sexual ecstasy.

At that, Eddie lunged toward him, knocking him to the ground, but the Strigoi fought back, pushing Eddie off of him. Eddie recoiled, but the Strigoi stepped to the side, apparently uninterested in fighting. He focused his red-ringed eyes on Adrian and said, "Hey, aren't you that Ivashkov guy, the one who hung out at our school even though you'd graduated like, three years before us?"

"That's me," Adrian said. "Now, be a dear and let Eddie kill you, OK?"

"And didn't you have Rose Hathaway after I was done with her?" the Strigoi asked. "Man, between us three guys, we have a few girls in common, don't we?"

"People don't _have_ people," Adrian said.

"_I_ do," Jesse said.

"You're not a person anymore," Adrian said.

The Strigoi smiled. "Guess not," he said. His eyes flicked to me, then back to Adrian. "Who's the blonde?" he asked Adrian. "You fucking her?"

"That's a very personal question for someone who's not a person," Adrian said.

"I'll take that as a yes," the Strigoi said, then looked over at me and said, "Now I wish I had saved room for dessert." He grinned, showing huge fangs. "But I gorged myself on those HQ guys. You wouldn't be_lieve_ how hungry I was. So, what are you, Blondie? An alchemist or something?"

"Something," I said, and took a few steps to the left so that the light of the setting sun fell over me. I wasn't sure how much protection it offered, but I had to try.

"You look sweet," he said. "Is she sweet, Ivashkov? Maybe we could share her too. I could turn both of you and we could all share her."

In response, Adrian shot two silent bullets at the Strigoi, one into each of the monsters' eyes.

The Strigoi hadn't been prepared for us to resist, and, having been so recently "turned," he wasn't yet in full control of his body. Adrian's shots hit home, and the Strigoi sank to the ground, clutching at his face.

"Oh, fuck you for that!" he screeched, but didn't have time to say anything else because Eddie was already on him. My friend quickly plunged a stake into the blinded Strigoi's chest, and the monster let out a hideous shriek that actually outmatched the wail of the alarm. Then, mercifully, he fell limp and silent. Eddie got up unto his knees, withdrew his stake, and wiped it on his jeans.

"He's dead?" I asked.

"Better be," Eddie said, standing up.

I nodded, then pulled the small bottle from my pocket and sprinkled some powder over the dead Strigoi. The body began to shrivel and disappear. "Ok," I said, dusting my hands on my jeans. "That's done."

"Are you OK, Sydney?" Adrian asked, putting his arms around me. "He was such a gross jerk. Even for a Strigoi."

"He was no prize as a Moroi," Eddie added, but he sounded tired and a little sad.

"I'm fine," I said, then gently pushed Adrian away and gave him a wan smile. I'd heard so many awful things from human men that Jesse's words had done very little to jar me. "That was some awesome shooting, by the way."

"I know," Adrian said. "Everything I do is awesome. Especially you."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help a bit of a smile.

"Ok, yeah, we're all awesome," Eddie said, impatiently. "Now let's go find Jill. You with me?" Adrian and I nodded, and we took off at a jog down the hall.

There was even less light in the hall than there'd been in the entrance room, and it took my eyes a few moments to adjust to the dimmer light, which was provided mainly by small emergency lights stationed about every meter along the way. I knew from the blueprints that the hall was 50 meters long, but to my eyes it looked twice that – as long as the football field at Amberwood. I could just make out a few doors on each side, as well as the door at the end of the hall, which, according to the blueprints, led to a stairway down. "Wonder what's in all these rooms," I said. "Should we check them?" I had a mental image of us opening a door and a snarling Strigoi leaping out, like a horizontal Jack-in-the-box.

Eddie paused to pull the door closest to us open, revealing a storage closet filled with toilet paper and cleaning supplies. He shrugged. "I guess we could check them quickly..."

Adrian pointed to a door about ten meters down the hall. "Uh, guys?" he said. "Someone's in there. Someone with an aura."

We all rushed over to the door and Eddie yanked it open. Inside we found what looked like a conference room. There was a large table in the center of the room, surrounded by some rolling office chairs, and there were some notepads on the table, most of which were either blank or covered with random doodles. It looked a bit like the conference room I'd seen at the other HQ compound up in Truckee, except for one key difference: there were two people on the ground in the corner of the room. One was wearing the same red uniform as the dead man we'd seen near the entrance, and he was lying in a strange position, his limbs akimbo. The other person was perched over the man in uniform, sucking the blood from his neck. I didn't let myself scream.

To my surprise, at our entrance, the blood drinker looked up at us and wiped his mouth, a look of misery on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm so sorry."

I steadied my gun, but Adrian put his hand on my shoulder very gently. "He's alive," Adrian said. Then to the crouched figure, he added, "Is that you, Roger? Roger Badica?"

"Adrian," said the man, who apparently was named Roger. I could see now that he was a Moroi, not a Strigoi, and he looked extremely thin and sick, with deep dark circles under his eyes. "Oh my god... What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for someone," Adrian said. "Why did you say before that you were sorry? What have you done?"

"I'm... I'm feeding from this guy," Roger said. His voice was strained, as if he was fighting to hold back tears. "But I didn't kill him, I swear. Jesse did. I wouldn't have done that. For a human, he wasn't so bad, but Jesse..." He gestured hopelessly. "Jesse said he was... he was going to turn me if I fought him, but then he heard you guys come in and..." A few tears escaped his eyes, and he paused to wipe them away. "I was so hungry. I didn't care any more." He looked at me, then at Eddie. "Hey," he said, to Eddie. "Do I know you, too?"

"Yeah," Eddie said. "Eddie Castile. I think I was two years behind you. Glad to see you're alive, Roger. How long have you been here?"

"I'm not sure," the Moroi responded. "About ten days, I think. They keep the lights on all the time so you don't know what time it is. They starved us..."

Adrian took some food out of his bag and brought it to Roger's side. "Here you go," he said. "Eat this. It's better than blood from a dead guy."

Roger glanced at the food – a few muffins and a sandwich – then back at the body. "He only died a minute ago," Roger said. "It's still warm. I... I really need blood."

Adrian grimaced. "I guess," he said. "It's just..."

"Kind of gross," Roger said. "But you don't know how hungry you get after this long."

Adrian looked away. "Do what you have to do, man," he said, and the Moroi bent back to the dead man's neck. I looked at Eddie. _Now what?_

"I'm going to check in the other rooms quickly for anything of interest," Eddie said, uncomfortably. "I'll be right back."

I hated the thought of Eddie leaving us, and wasn't sure I wanted to be in the same room as this very hungry Moroi, but I nodded, and Eddie left the room. Adrian and I waited a long minute while the starving Roger continued to drink. Finally, he sat up and looked at us. "Sorry," he said again, wiping at the corners of his mouth. "I know it's so gross."

"Roger?" I said. "That's your name, right? Roger?"

"Yeah, um, hi. Are you – are you a feeder?"

"I'm not a feeder," I said, wearily. "I'm an alchemist. Do you know what that is?"

Roger nodded.

"Do you think you'll be able to drive?" I asked him. "Once you've had enough blood?"

"Probably..."

I put the keys to the Kia down on the floor near him - I wasn't comfortable getting close enough to him to actually put it in his hand - and he picked them up with a look of curiosity. "Out in the parking lot is a green Kia," I said. "When you're, um, done here, you can take the food Adrian gave you and go out to the car. Wait there until the sun sets, about 40 minutes from now, in case we find any other survivors, and then go, OK?" Roger nodded again, and I found a piece of paper in my bag and handed that over as well. "This is a list of some feeders who live in the area. Look for ones near San Simeon – that's the closest city. Maybe you can go to one of them. Just don't... don't hurt anyone, ok?"

Roger smiled weakly, keeping his mouth closed to hide his fangs. "Thank you," he said. "I appreciate it. I... I thought he was going to turn me. I... I had stopped fighting, you know? But... I don't _want_ to go over. I held out this long. I'm not going to give up now."

"Good for you," Adrian said, warmly, then added, "Hey, listen, man. While you were here, did you get a chance to see who else was captured? Like, did you see anyone, or talk to each other from room to room?"

At that moment, the alarm stopped blaring. Unaccustomed to the silence, we all froze in place, and then after a moment, Roger started to give his reply. He was staring at me as he did, and I got the feeling he was looking at my neck, so I looked down at the conference table. "They never took us out of our cells," Roger said. "The only people I ever really saw were the guards, and the people the guards threw in to try to get me to... you know." He coughed. "They wanted us to drain them and go over."

One of the notepads on the conference table seemed to have some writing on it. I picked it up and began leafing through it.

"And you guys weren't, like shouting in your cells at night, like they do in prison movies?" Adrian asked.

The handwriting on the notepad was nearly illegible, I found, but there was a lot of it, and what little I could pick out seemed interesting.

"Not really," Roger said. "I heard voices sometimes, but couldn't really recognize them."

"They captured you by yourself?" Adrian asked.

"Yeah," Roger said. "I was just coming home from visiting a feeder and someone just jumped out of nowhere and then... I don't know, they must have hit me over the head or something. I don't know. I woke up here."

I tore off the sheets that had writing on them and shoved them into my bag, thinking that I could read them later – assuming there _was_ a later.

"Do you have any idea how many people they got?" Adrian asked.

"I'm not sure," Roger said. "Might have been 20 or 30 of us. I hope a few others manage to get out."

We all instinctively looked up as someone came into the room, then relaxed when we saw it was Eddie.

"There's nothing in the other rooms," he said. He looked over at Roger. "You better get out of here, Roger. It's not safe for you."

The Moroi smiled wanly. "Thanks, Guardian, for the advice," he said. "Should I... should I wait for you guys, or...?

"We'll be fine," Eddie said, then after a brief pause, asked, in a strained voice, "Have you – have you seen Jill? Jillian Dragomir? She's a few years behind me, but you must know who she is."

"I know who she is," Roger said. His voice dropped to a whisper. "Jesse was bragging that he... that he killed her."

Eddie looked as if someone had punched him in the stomach. He swallowed hard and looked away.

"Listen," I said, and Roger looked up at me. "Can you give us an idea of what happened today, that started all this?"

"I don't know, really," he said. "We were all just here, and you know, they've been starving us..."

"I know," I said.

"And um, an hour or two ago or something, some Strigoi got loose. There was a lot of shouting in the halls, and then the power went off, I don't know why, and then it was just chaos. The guards had been using electricity to keep us in. Like, the doors were electrified so that even a Strigoi couldn't get through them. So when the lights went out we all got loose, both the Strigoi and the Moroi. Everyone was running, and the HQ guys were shooting at us, but it was dark and they couldn't see in the dark like we can. And some of the Moroi, they just started drinking from whoever they could catch and some of them... I think some of them went over that way. They just lost it. We're all so hungry."

"Yeah," Adrian said, gently. "I get that, man."

"And then some water user was going nuts," Roger went on. "Whoever it was, they pulled some of the pipes off the walls. There was water _everywhere_."

"Water user?" Eddie whispered.

"Yeah, some places you couldn't even get through without practically wading, I don't know. I got up to this floor and then I was hiding in here with this one HQ guy, he was as scared of me as I was of him I think, and he was saying he was sorry, he didn't realize, blah blah. I don't know. Like we were going to try to get outside together. And then Jessie came in and..." He looked around helplessly. "He... you know."

"Thanks for the information," I said. "It's helpful. Now we're going to go find some more people, and hopefully we'll see you outside."

"You're really going downstairs?" Roger whispered. "Oh, god, don't. It's... bad. It's bad down there."

"We have to," Eddie said. "We have to try to find our friend."

Roger shook his head. "I'll say good-bye, then," he said. "I'll wait as long as I can in case you find anyone else. Thanks for the food and stuff. I'll eat it later."

We nodded, and after a few uncomfortable good-byes, the three of us went back out into the hall, while the Moroi bent back down to the neck of the dead man.

"That was probably Jill who was using the water," I said, in a low tone, as we began hurrying down the hall way again. "Most Moroi haven't developed their magic like she has. We just have to follow the water and we'll find her."

"If she's using water, she hasn't gone over," Adrian added. "Jesse was a huge liar even when he was a Moroi. He probably didn't even get near her."

"Yeah," Eddie said, his voice thick. "Right."

"Was there anything in the other rooms?" Adrian asked.

"Not much," Eddie said. "Offices, desks, dead guys. Found some money, though."

"How much?" Adrian asked.

"About a hundred," Eddie said. "Oh, and this fancy watch." He held up a huge Rolex. "Maybe we can sell it."

"That'll go a long way in Mexico," Adrian said.

"Hope so," Eddie said. "If we can get through all the roadblocks and stuff."

We jogged along in silence for a moment after that until we got to the end of the hall. In front of us was a heavy-looking metal door with a sign that read "Authorized Personnel Only." Adrian tapped the sign with a fingertip. "Guess that's us," he said, and opened the door.

We were looking down a stairwell that was even more dimly lit than the hallway. We began our descent, and I waited for my eyes to adjust to the light – but they didn't. "Adrian," I said. "I can't... I can't really see."

His hand found mine in the near-darkness. "I'll lead you," he said.

"I should have brought the flashlight," I whispered.

"Better we don't use a light anyway," Adrian said. "It'll just draw attention to us." Then he paused. "Who's there?" he called, in a friendly tone.

There was no answer.

"It's ok," Eddie called. "We really won't hurt you. I'm a dhampir, a Guardian, and my friend is a Moroi."

"A Guardian?" a young sounding voice said, and then there was the sound of footsteps coming up the stairs. A moment later, a young Moroi girl came into view. From what I could see, she looked to be about 14, and she had long, disheveled blond hair and deep set, exhausted looking eyes. Thankfully, she didn't look quite as gaunt as Roger had looked. She did, however, look terrified.

"Hi," I said. "I know you're scared, but we were just upstairs, and it's safe up there. Just run up the stairs, out through the hall and out to the parking lot to the right, and get into the bright green car. OK?"

Eddie gave me a questioning look, and I held up my hand in a gesture that meant _wait_. He nodded.

"You're here to rescue me?" the girl said, and broke into tears. "Someone came for me? I thought no one cared!" And to my surprise, she threw her arms around my waist.

"You're going to be OK," I said, patting her back. "As long as you run now, alright? You can get away in that green car."

She nodded and pulled away from me, wiping her nose on her sleeve, then looked up at me in surprise. "Hey, you're human! Are you..."

"You'll be fine," I said, quickly, hoping she wasn't going to ask me what I thought she was going to ask me. "Just go now before another Strigoi comes, ok?"

"Are you a feeder?" she asked me. "I haven't had any blood in five days. Maybe I could quickly -"

"I'm not a feeder," I said, trying to keep the annoyance out of my voice.

"Look, honey," Adrian said to the girl. "We can't give you blood, but this is better than nothing for right now." He gave her a couple of muffins, then pointed up the stairs. "Now run, OK? Go find the green car. Then you can go to a feeder."

"OK," the girl said, holding the muffins as if she had no idea what to do with them. "That sounds good, I guess. But isn't there a Strigoi up there? He went by and laughed at me and said he was going to save me for later..."

"I staked him," Eddie said. "Now run before the sun sets."

The girl's eyes widened. "_Oh_," she said. "Yeah. Sure. And you're... you're going to go rescue more people?"

"Yes," Eddie said.

"Good luck," the girl said, sincerely. "Thanks for the muffins." She started up the stairs, then turned around. "What're your names?" she asked.

"That's Eddie Castile," I said, pointing. "Remember that name. Tell people back at Court that Eddie Castile saved you by staking that Strigoi."

"I _will_," she said. She was still crying a little. "Bye. Bye, Eddie Castile. Bye, Eddie Castile's friends." And then she began running up the stairs, cramming the muffins in her mouth as she ran.

"I feel bad leaving her alone," Adrian said, watching her go.

"The top level of the building is clear," Eddie said. "I don't mean to sound heartless, but other people need our help more. She'll be fine."

"I hope so," Adrian said. He took my hand again. "Come on, Sage, let's go be heroes some more."

"That's my plan," I said, and we started jogging down the stairs again, as quickly as we could.

At the foot of the stairs there was a heavy door, this one lit with a pale red emergency light and marked with a sign that read "DANGER: TRAINED PERSONNEL ONLY." Under it there was a paper sign with a hand-written addendum: "_If you haven't passed FT training ask DW before entering._" There was also, to our left, another set of stairs leading down.

"In, or down?" Eddie asked. "What do you guys think?"

Adrian paused, listening. "I hear voices and footsteps in both directions," he said. "In there, and below us."

Eddie looked at me, and I shrugged. "The blueprints say that both floors are identical," I said. "There's no way to know."

Eddie sighed. "Let's go in," he said, and opened the door and went through it. We followed him, Adrian still leading me by the hand.

I knew from the blueprints that the basement was built in the shape of a square, and that we had come in at a corner. We could either bear left and follow a path around clockwise, or bear right and go counter-clockwise, but either way, we'd be traveling in a loop. I looked to the left and to the right, squinting. The only apparent source of illumination came from glow-in-the-dark safety strips that lined walls at their base, giving the halls the look of an airplane runway at night.

"It smells like water," Eddie whispered. "Where's it coming from?"

"It's all over the place," Adrian said. "Look over there." He gestured to the hallway to our left.

I tried to see, but couldn't. "What is it?" I asked.

"A bunch of piping, kind of everywhere," Adrian murmured. "Looks like the ceiling tile collapsed in and the pipes are sort of hanging down."

"Jill," Eddie whispered. "She could do that. If she pulled on the water in the pipes..." He trailed off as he began jogging toward the downed pipes, as if Jill might be right under them, and Adrian and I followed behind him, Adrian still holding my hand.

"I wish I could see what you see," I said, and realized a moment too late how sullen I sounded. But I couldn't quite stop the thoughts from flitting through my head: _I'm not helping. I can't even see, much less fight. I should have waited in the car. I've already done all I can do to help._

"Love you," Adrian said, squeezing my hand.

"Love you too," I said.

"Hey, what was that about the green car?" Eddie asked, and I explained as well as I could while still keeping up our brisk pace. When I was done, Eddie said, "That was smart thinking, Syd. You probably saved that girl's life, and Roger's too."

"Thanks," I said, not entirely convinced.

After that, we hurried along in silence for a minute or two, pausing as Eddie or Adrian peered into the doorway of each room we passed. We found two dead HQ guards, and though it might sound ghoulish, we helped ourselves to the money in their pockets. We also passed by a dead Moroi woman who looked to be in her 40s. Adrian took a long look at her face and said he didn't know her, but that he'd be able to draw a picture of her later. At the very least, we might be able to give her family some answers.

We kept going, but it was difficult, and not just emotionally. The hall was like an obstacle course. In addition to the bits of ceiling on the ground and the occasional wide puddles, there were also odd lumps that I realized couldn't possibly be bodies. After nearly stumbling over one of them, I knelt down next to it to try to figure out what it was. I could barely see it, but running my hands over it, I recognized the basic shape and structure from diagrams I'd seen in alchemist training materials. "It's a flamethrower," I said. "Someone broke it in half, though."

"Oh," Eddie said. "Wow. That's crazy. I'll keep my eyes open for any that are still intact."

"Me too," Adrian said. "Feel like they'd be a bit more helpful than guns."

None of us bothered to discuss who would have the strength to break a large metal device in half, or why there were so many flamethrowers in this building. I imagined how this hallway would have looked just a few short hours ago, with flamethrowers hung on the wall every 10 or 20 feet, the way fire extinguishers would be normally. I felt a little ill.

We reached the end of the hall and were forced to turn right, and then began heading down a nearly identical looking hall. We kept up the pace, and I was grateful to the adrenaline in my bloodstream. Twice, we had to stop while Adrian and Eddie examined the body of a dead Moroi, but thankfully, neither of them turned out to be Jill or anyone else that Adrian or Eddie recognized. We'd made it almost the whole way down this second hallway when Adrian whispered, "We've got a live one. Aura and everything. On the left. Don't think it's Jill, though."

Eddie opened the door and for the first time I went into one of the rooms that had obviously been used as a cell. It was even worse than the room where I'd been held back in Truckee. There was nothing but bare concrete walls and a bare concrete floor, and it smelled like a dirty public restroom. Lying in one corner was a huddled mass that moved a little when we came in.

"Hey," Adrian said, in a soft voice. "It's ok. I'm Adrian, I'm a Moroi. We're not going to hurt you."

"One of the guards shot me," a male voice responded. "In the leg. I can't walk. I hid in here..."

Adrian knelt down by the figure and said, "I'm going to heal your leg, ok? Then I want you to run away as fast as you can. There's someone out there in a car, and he can drive you to a feeder and stuff. You'll be ok."

"Is that a human with you?" the voice asked. "Are you a feeder?"

"No," I said. "I'm not a feeder."

"Her blood is tainted," Adrian said. "You don't want it."

"What about him?" the unfamiliar Moroi said. "The dhampir? Can't he feed me?"

"I'm here in my capacity as Guardian," Eddie said. "If I give you blood, I won't be able to fight the Strigoi."

"I'm so hungry," the Moroi said. "I've been here over a week."

"Adrian, do you have any more food?" I asked. I was starting to feel more than a little uncomfortable.

Adrian silently gave the Moroi a few slices of Maeve's zucchini bread, and I heard the sound of ravenous eating while Adrian bent over the Moroi's injured leg. I tried to remind myself of various phrases from the Bible to keep myself from telling Adrian that he shouldn't waste spirit energy on this stranger.

A few moments later, the Moroi wearily got to his feet. "Thanks," he said. "I had heard about Spirit users, but never met one." Now that he was standing, I could see him a little better. He was older, maybe in his 40s or 50s, and he was wearing a suit. He might be someone's father, I thought to myself, and felt guilty for wanting to leave him behind.

Eddie started giving the Moroi directions on how to get out of the building, but the older man interrupted him. "I can't go out there by myself!" he said, indignantly. "Didn't you say you were a Guardian? Well, act like one and guard me!"

We discussed it briefly and decided that he could stay with us until we reached the stairway, at which point he would go upstairs, and we would go down, assuming we hadn't found Jill by then. With that decided, we left the awful little cell and went back into the damp hallway. I found myself thinking of how the day had started – waking up in a cozy bed with Adrian, sharing strawberries with him, making love. It had been a nice beginning to the day, in any case. Some people didn't get even that much.

It took us a few more minutes to reach the next corner, and then we turned right again and headed down the third hallway. The scenery didn't change much – just concrete walls and floors, smashed flamethrower equipment, and the occasional dead body. I held Adrian's hand tightly, and not just for the guidance he gave in the dim light. The older Moroi couldn't quite keep up with us, so Adrian and I kept him moving while Eddie checked each room we passed.

We'd gotten about halfway down the third hallway when we heard the sound of laughter and footsteps coming toward us. Eddie immediately changed his posture and Adrian raised his gun. The older Moroi began backing up in terror, but I held up my gun and steadied myself.

"What's this?" said a female voice from down the hall. "A feast?"

"A buffet," said a male voice.

"We're not prey for you," Eddie said. "Move on and find some other targets."

"We're hungry," said the female voice. "I mean, all I had to eat today was like, four of those HQ guys. I decided to keep this one, though. He's cute." She laughed merrily, and I realized she could only be a few meters away. I could just about make her out in the dim light. She was on the shorter side for a former Moroi, and she had short hair. Not Jill, I told myself. That was all that mattered. The male to her side appeared to be dressed in an HQ uniform, and must have recently been a human.

There was a small flash of light in front of me, and I realized that Adrian must have fired his gun. The silencer I'd mad him was working perfectly, and even the Strigoi couldn't hear the bullet flying from the chamber.

The male Strigoi let out an angry, pained shout. "What the fuck?" he said. "Did something bite me?"

"You don't get bitten now," the female Strigoi said. "Now that I've turned you, you get to do the biting."

"Something... bit me," the male insisted. "In the eye!"

There were a few more brief flashes of light, and then a few more angry screams. The two Strigoi took a few more steps closer to us, and I made up my mind to take a few shots of my own. I was lining up my shot when something grabbed me from behind. I smelled sweat and dirty clothes, saw suit cuffs. I reacted instinctively, using the same throw that Eddie had taught me in self-defense – the one I'd used to get Bryan off of me, a few short weeks ago. The middle-aged Moroi went flying to the ground.

"What?" I said, astonished. "We help you and you..." I couldn't even finish the sentence.

"I'm so hungry," the man said, weakly. "I just was going to take a little. I'm just so _hungry_."

"What is going on?" the female Strigoi was wailing. "I can't see out of my left eye... What happened? Are you shooting at us? I don't hear any guns!"

"Adrian, watch out for Sydney," Eddie said. "I got these two." Then he lunged toward the Strigoi.

"If you hurt my friend, I will kill you and not be sorry," Adrian told the Moroi, then faced back toward the fight, gun raised. I saw a few more flashes of light as his gun went off a few more times, heard a few more shouts of pain and confusion. A trained Guardian was more than a match for two extremely young Strigoi who had no real fight training, especially ones who'd been temporarily blinded by a sharp-shooter, and soon enough Eddie had staked both of them.

Once the immediate danger had passed, Adrian turned to the older Moroi. "Go," he said, and pointed down the hall. "Run. Run faster than you've ever run in your life. Go to the end of the hall and up the stairs like we talked about. And you better hope our paths never cross again, you little ungrateful fuckface."

"I'm sorry," the Moroi said. "Please don't leave me alone."

"I wasn't kidding," Adrian said, and held up his gun. "You have three seconds to start running. One –"

The Moroi turned his back to us and began running flat out down the hall, making decent time for an older, injured Moroi.

"You OK, sweetheart?" Adrian asked me.

"I'm fine," I said. "It was nothing. Eddie, are you OK?"

"Fine," Eddie said.

"If you're not, say so," I said, getting out my Strigoi powder and dusting it over the bodies, which immediately began to shrivel and disappear. "We need you healthy."

"I'm fine," Eddie said again. "Let's go."

We resumed our journey down the hall, rounded the last corner, and kept going. After another few minutes, we found ourselves back where we'd started – at the stairway. We'd made it all the way around the first sub-basement, and while we hadn't found Jill, at least we'd survived.

"Just one more floor to check," Eddie said, as we began jogging down the stairs. "She has to be down there."

"Can we talk about what happens when we find her?" I asked.

"What do you mean?" Eddie asked, in a strained voice.

"She's going to be very hungry," I said, as gently as I could.

"Then we'll feed her," Eddie said. "We have food."

"But she won't want _food_," I said. Gingerly, I stepped around the body of a dead HQ guard.

"It'll be OK," Eddie said, stubbornly.

"But..." I said, and trailed off.

"I guess we'll burn that bridge when we get to it," Adrian said.

"I don't think that's the saying," I said.

"Are we going to talk about me going all Dirty Harry on that guy?" Adrian asked. "That's what we should talk about. I was all, 'You have three seconds to start running', waving the gun like I was Charlton Heston. That was pretty great." There was very little of the usual lightness to his tone, but I knew what he was trying to do, and I appreciated it.

"Yeah," I said, squeezing his hand. "It was great. You're great."

"You're biased," Adrian said. "But you're also right."

Eddie sighed. "Let's hurry," he said, and though we were already hurrying, Adrian and I just grunted agreement.

We quickly reached the bottom of the stairwell, where we were faced with another heavy looking metal door. Eddie didn't ask if we were ready - he just pulled the door open and gestured for us to go in.

I glanced at my watch. There were only five minutes until sundown.


	69. II: The Voice From Behind the Pipes

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 54: The Voice From Behind the Pipes**

"Which way do you guys think?" Eddie asked, speaking softly. "That way, or that way?" He pointed at each of the two hallways which led off to our left and right. "Sydney, do you remember seeing anything special in the blueprints?"

I shook my head. "It's another square," I said. "We either go around clockwise or counter-clockwise. It's all luck, unless Adrian can sense something we can't."

Adrian sniffed the air with evident distaste. "There's more water that way," he said, pointing to the left. "Lots more downed pipes." He stood thinking for a moment, then called out, "Jailbait? You there?"

"Don't call her that," Eddie said, testily.

"Do you want me to shout her _name_?" Adrian asked, in a low tone. "Should I announce to the Strigoi where the last Dragomir princess is?"

"Point made," Eddie said, looking down at the ground.

"Thanks," Adrian said, then repeated, a little more loudly, "Jailbait? Do you hear me? We're all here. Trust Fund Pretty Boy, Mr. Stick Up His Butt, and Miss I-Love-Homework." Eddie shot me a look, and I shrugged. I _did_ like homework, so why get offended? "Where are you, little Jailbait?" called Adrian again, and though Eddie winced, neither of us said a word while Adrian listened intently for a reply. Finally, Adrian shook his head. "I don't hear her," he said. "But I hear... lots of other things. Voices, thuds... and lots and lots of water. I think we should go to the left, where most of the water seems to be."

Eddie nodded grimly and took off at a run.

"Hey!" I said, running after him and almost tripping over a pile of pipes. "Wait for us!"

"We have to be careful," Adrian added, catching up to me and taking my hand. "I think that there are lots more Strigoi ahead."

"Then I'll kill them all," Eddie said. "I don't fucking care how many of them there are. I'll have earned a battle star tattoo before this is over."

"I hope it won't come to that," I said.

After that, I had to save my breath, because we were running full speed down the hallway. From time to time, Adrian muttered things like, "careful, deep puddle on the left," or "watch out, Sage, pipe on the right," and I managed not to trip over anything. Then Eddie suddenly stopped short.

"What is it?" Adrian panted.

"This one looks complete," Eddie said, pulling something off the wall. "What do you think, Chief? Do you know how to use it?"

He put something heavy and metallic in my hands – a flamethrower, I realized. I ran my hands over it, feeling its smooth lines, and tapped a fingernail against the small fuel tank. It appeared to be full. "Trigger's here," I said, pointing. "Here's the safety. I move this switch, pull the trigger, and..." A small tongue of flame leaped from the barrel, and Eddie and Adrian both jumped. "Like that," I said. "But if I adjust this knob..." – and I pointed again – "the flame will get larger." Again, I pulled the trigger, and this time, a much larger flame emerged.

"Cool," Eddie said, admiringly. "Or hot, I guess. I hope we find a few more. But for now, you hang on to that, because you're the most vulnerable."

"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence," I said.

"Don't get offended," Eddie said. "You can't expect yourself to be able to defend against Strigoi, especially in the dark. At least Adrian can see in the dark well enough to shoot..."

"Yeah, I know," I said.

"And it's my goal for us to get out of this without you having to use that thing," Eddie said. "I'm the Guardian, here. I don't want either of you risking your life."

"Too late, Castile," Adrian said, and without further discussion, we began jogging down the hall again.

We'd made it about halfway down the hall when we encountered two more Strigoi, which Eddie made quick work of, with a small assist from Adrian, who again shot out the monsters' eyes. Then after another few paces, another Strigoi emerged from one of the rooms, and again, Eddie and Adrian took care of it. Both times, I never even got a chance to use the flamethrower. And both times, once the monsters were dead, I got out my Strigoi powder and began dusting the bodies.

"Why do you bother?" Eddie asked, watching me work, tapping his foot impatiently. "What's the point?"

"It's my job," I said. "It's what I pledged my life to do. And it only takes a moment. See? I'm already done."

"You won't have time to clean up after all of them," Eddie said.

"I'll do as many as I have time for," I said.

"Fine," Eddie said, and started to run again. I noticed that he was favoring one leg a little.

"What's wrong with your left leg?" I asked, trying to keep up with him.

"It's not the leg," he said. "It's my right side. Broken rib. That one in the blue shirt whacked me against the wall pretty good."

I didn't know which Strigoi Eddie was talking about – in this light, I couldn't easily discern the color blue – but it didn't much matter. "If you're hurt, we should should – " I said.

"It'll be fine by morning," Eddie said, not even slowing down.

"But you need to be well enough to fight," I said. "Eddie, let Adrian –"

"I'm fine to fight," Eddie said. "You have your life's work, and I have mine."

"But..."

"Don't stress it, Sage," Adrian said. "You can't talk him out of it. Let's just... get through this." In the dim light, I couldn't really see his face, but I heard the concern and affection in his voice.

"Ok," I said, and after that, we ran on in silence until we reached the end of the first hallway. There, we turned a corner to head down the second one. This second hallway was so flooded that the water was actually moving along the floor in a little river that curled into a small drain in the corner.

"Jill," Eddie said, noticing the water, and began running a little faster, splashing through the inch deep water.

"Adrian, do you sense any electricity?" I asked. "I don't really want to get electrocuted."

"Nah," Adrian said. "Just the little bit being used by the emergency lights in the corners. We're in the clear, electricity wise anyway. But there are more Strigoi ahead."

"Crap," I said, at the same time as Eddie said a ruder word with a similar meaning. "Lots of them?" I asked.

"You can't hear them?" Adrian asked.

I stopped for a moment to listen, as did Eddie. Sure enough, even I could hear the sound of yelling coming from down the hall. I could also hear a sound like someone spraying a firehose at a brick wall. "Well," I said, holding up my flamethrower. "Nothing for it. Let's go."

"Sure," Adrian said. "Run toward the immortal soulless monsters. Just what I wanted to do today."

So we started running again. The water, though, was getting deeper and covering more and more of the floor, until finally we were forced to stop running and start wading through an ankle-deep river. My sneakers and the bottom four or five inches of my jeans were soaked through.

"We're not far now," Adrian said. "There are blasts of water coming out of that room ahead, sixth on the left."

"Jill," Eddie said. "It's got to be her."

"Jill who?" said a voice behind us. "Do you mean Jillian Dragomir?"

We all turned around to see a Strigoi, whose approach had been muffled by the sounds of us splashing. I had never thought the day would come when the sight of a Strigoi would fill me with any emotion other than abject terror, but at the moment, the main emotion I was feeling was aggravation. We were so _close_!

"Listen," Eddie said. He sounded weary. "Really, let's not do this. I'll make you a deal. I don't kill you, you don't kill me. Fair?"

"Sounds nice," said the Strigoi, striding toward us. He appeared to be in his late 40s, though of course age meant little to him now. "Only, I have a better idea. You don't kill me, and I _do_ kill you, all of you. Then that little Dragomir girl. How does that sound?"

"What is it like?" Eddie asked. "Being a Strigoi? A few hours ago, you would have done anything to stay a Moroi, keep your soul. Do you have family? Wife, kids...?"

The Strigoi stopped moving. "My wife and I couldn't have kids," he said. "I had some dhampirs with that blood whore I kept on the side, but it's not the same thing."

"So you were an asshole even before you turned, then," Eddie said. "Got it. Thanks. That'll make it easier to kill you."

The Strigoi laughed. "Oh, you dhampirs," he said. "Getting above yourselves these days, ever since that dhampir loving Dragomir took the throne. It's how we ended up in this mess in the first place."

"What mess?" Eddie asked.

"Humans running amok," the Strigoi said. "Capturing decent Moroi royalty like myself. I mean, I guess I should thank them, since now that I've awoken I see that it worked out for the best..."

"OK, shut up," Eddie said. "This is really getting old. You want to know how many Strigoi I've met tonight?"

"Tell me," said the middle aged Strigoi.

"Six," Eddie said. "Want to know how many I've staked?"

The Strigoi laughed, but said nothing.

"Six," Eddie said again. "I'm batting 1000 right now. Do you really want to try me?"

"And I've eaten four HQ guards," the Strigoi said. He glanced at Adrian. "I'd love to try some Moroi. I've never had Moroi blood."

"You never will," Eddie said, lunging forward. The Strigoi lunged as well, moving in that absolutely lightening quick way that Strigoi could, the way that made both dhampir and Moroi movements look clunky and slow. The Strigoi feinted, Eddie dodged, and then the Strigoi slammed Eddie against the wall, and I heard the faint sound of a bone breaking. Then Eddie pushed back, knocking the Strigoi to the ground and staking him.

"Eddie, let me – " Adrian said, stepping forward.

"There's no time," Eddie said, pointing down the hall. Even I could see the faint outline of human-shaped objects that I knew were definitely _not_ human.

"Let him heal you," I said, as I got out my Strigoi powder and dusted it over the body. "I heard that bone breaking from here. What was it, another rib?"

"We don't have time for that shit," Eddie said. "Come on, Sydney, Jill is right there!"

"I'm not letting you fight with two broken ribs," Adrian said. "Give me thirty seconds to help..."

"You said yourself that broken bones are tricky," Eddie said. "I'm fine. And Sydney's done, right?"

I looked down at the body, which had already begun to dissolve. "Yeah," I said. "But come on, just let him..."

"She's under attack," Eddie said, pointing up the hall. "We can do this. Sydney, get the flamethrower ready. Adrian, do you have more ammo?"

"I'll reload," Adrian said, as he got out more bullets from his pocket.

"Then let's go," Eddie said. "They've probably already heard us, so there's no point in trying to sneak up on them."

Adrian and I nodded, and then we all started running – or rather wading quickly – down the hall toward the Strigoi. I kept my finger on the flamethrower's trigger mechanism, and resisted the urge to let out little reassuring bursts of flame.

After a moment or two, Adrian said, "There's five of them. They're all trying to get into that one room on the left."

"Trying?" Eddie repeated. "But not succeeding?"

"Not so far," Adrian said. "It's the water. Keeps hitting them in the face and knocking them against the wall."

"Leave her alone," Eddie shouted. "You want someone to fight with? Come after me!" This, again, was more or less the opposite of what I would have said to a Strigoi, but I reminded myself of Eddie's kill record for the night and kept my opinions to myself.

And then we were only a few meters away. A dim emergency light allowed me to make out the outlines of the five Strigoi. To their left was the door that they'd been trying to get into, and I could see that the entrance was blocked by a huge pile of pipes. Someone – most likely Jill herself – had pulled piping down from the ceiling so that it completely blocked the door, which explained why the entire system of pipes on both floors was so drastically damaged. She must have pulled the pipes out of the ceiling and walls the way I used to pull veins out of leaves as a kid.

As I watched, a blast of water emerged from the door, hitting a female Strigoi in the face and knocking her back toward the wall. I understood then why the Strigoi had been having trouble getting to Jill. Whenever they'd gotten close enough to try to move the pipes aside, she'd blasted them with water, making it impossible for them to grab hold of anything. I smiled. Jill was a lot smarter than most people thought.

The Strigoi who Jill had just knocked back against the wall dried her face impatiently.

"I'm getting sick of all this water," she said. She looked at us and smiled. "I prefer blood," she said, starting toward us. "You got any, dhampir?" As she got closer, I could see that she was wearing a rather disheveled looking evening gown, which must have been what she had been wearing when the HQ had abducted her.

"I've never tasted dhampir," said another Strigoi, a young looking male, as he began following the Strigoi in the evening gown. "I had a dhampir girlfriend once but she never let me bite her."

Eddie didn't reply; he just held out his stake. Both Strigoi attacked, and as before, Adrian shot out the monsters' eyes to make it easier for Eddie to complete the kill. Eddie hardly seemed to need the help, though. He was in his element now, and despite his injuries, was moving with such assurance and grace that the fight almost could have been a choreographed dance. When it was all over, he cleaned off his stake, and I stepped forward to dust both dead Strigoi with powder. It was satisfying to watch them shrivel and dissolve.

"Hey there," Eddie called to the three remaining Strigoi, who were all male. They looked over at him. One appeared to be about middle aged and was wearing a business suit, which made him look so... _normal_ that it was hard to understand that he was an undead thing. The other two were younger, maybe about college aged. One of them was surprisingly muscular for a former Moroi, and I wondered if he'd been lifting weights regularly, or maybe even using steroids. The other was slender, with blond hair and an insolent expression.

"What are you, a Guardian?" the biggest Strigoi asked. "I was looking to hire one, before they took me. I guess now I don't need one, huh?"

"You want my resume?" Eddie said. "Tonight, I'm 9 for 9. Who else wants to help me earn another molnija mark?"

Again, this wasn't what I would have said if I'd been in Eddie's shoes, and this time it didn't exactly pay out like Eddie had hoped. Instead of attacking Eddie, the Strigoi spread out to attack all three of us. The largest one leaped toward Eddie, the middle aged one attacked Adrian, and the blond one went for me.

"Run!" Eddie shouted.

But this wasn't advice that I could reasonably follow. The Strigoi was already practically on me.

Up close, he looked even younger, and his eyes, inside their red rings, were as green as Adrian's. He smiled at me, a creepy, almost lustful smile, and said, "Hi, there, blondie. What are you, a human or something? I could've gone for you in a big way, back... before."

"And now?" I asked, adjusting the flame setting on my flame thrower.

"Now I still could," he said, and leaped toward me.

I pulled the trigger on my flamethrower and a huge tongue of flame emerged from the barrel. Instantly, the Strigoi's clothing – and flesh – went up in flames. The creature screamed and fell to the ground, rolling in the water to put out the fire.

He wasn't dead, but he was badly injured, and that gave me a few seconds to check on my friends. To my horror, the middle-aged Strigoi had Adrian backed against a wall about ten meters from me. Adrian turned to me, and our eyes met as the monster bent toward Adrian's neck. Adrian tried to smile, and then his face was hidden by the back of the Strigoi's head as the monster bit down on Adrian's neck.

"Eddie," I called. "It has Adrian!"

"I'll... be... right... there..." grunted Eddie, fighting off the large Strigoi.

"There's no time," I called, frantically. I glanced back at the blond Strigoi, who was still rolling in the water, trying to fully put out the fires in his clothing and skin. I looked back at Eddie, who was still engaged. Then I got out my gun and shot six bullets into the middle-aged Strigoi's back. All that did, though, was cause the creature to wince slightly, then laugh and go back to feeding from Adrian. I could even hear the greedy sucking sounds the thing was making at Adrian's neck.

For a moment, I found myself flooded with memories of kissing Adrian's neck – his pulse under my lips, the soft sounds in his throat... The creature's actions were like a horrible, ugly parody of a kiss. I bit down on a scream, and then, almost without knowing what I was doing, I ran toward the Strigoi, flamethrower already engaged.

As the flames engulfed the Strigoi, the creature howled in pain and fell to the ground to roll in the water. I shouted at Adrian, telling him to run. But he just stood there, swaying woozily, too high from Strigoi endorphins to be able to think straight. So I kept the flamethrower aimed at the injured Strigoi, although the heat was starting to singe me, too. Even wet, the Strigoi's skin was highly flammable, and it was satisfying to watch the creature burn. The other Strigoi started to make its way toward me, too, so for good measure, I aimed the flamethrower at it for a few seconds, too, setting its hair on fire.

"Eddie," I called, moving the flame back and forth between the two Strigoi, keeping them down while Adrian continued to sway dizzily. "I don't know how much longer I can do this..."

A few meters away, Eddie let out a loud grunt as he plunged his stake deep into the lead Strigoi's chest. "Get Adrian," Eddie said, as he ran to my side. "I'll take care of this." He kicked one of the Strigoi in the face and made an attempt to stake the other, though the creature rolled away at the last second.

Quickly, I took hold of Adrian's hand "Come on," I said, and dragged my boyfriend away from the injured Strigoi. Adrian leaned on me a little as we awkwardly ran through the ankle deep water. Once we'd gotten a decent distance away, I helped Adrian lean against the wall, and we both watched while Eddie continued to fight.

"Who's there?" came a soft, familiar voice from the nearest doorway. I looked over and realized it was the door that was almost hidden behind a pile of metal pipes – the door that Jill was behind.

"Jill!" I said, trying not to shout. "Jill, is that you?"

"Yes," said the voice. She sounded exhausted. "Is that Sydney?"

"Yes, it's me," I said, watching Eddie fight the two burned Strigoi. Their injured flesh was regenerating as I watched, but Eddie had them on the ropes. "And Adrian's here, and Eddie. We're going to get you out of here and take you home."

"Omigod," said the tired sounding voice. "I... wasn't sure if you'd come."

"Of course we came," I said. "Jill, of course we came." As I spoke, I gave Adrian a small container of orange juice from my backpack, which he began drinking immediately.

"Is... is Eddie fighting the Strigoi?" Jill asked.

"Yes," I said. "There are only two of them left."

"Is he OK?"

"He's a bit bruised, but he's fine," I said.

"And you and Adrian?"

"We're OK," I said. "Pretty much, anyway. Adrian got bitten, but he's OK."

"I'm fiiiiine, Jailbait," Adrian said, and giggled.

"What about _you_?" I asked.

"I'm... Well, I'm alive," Jill said, from behind the door. "I've been better, I guess. I... . Sydney, they said you were one of them. That you hated me and helped them catch me."

"No," I said, aghast. "Jill, no. Who said that?"

"_They_ did," Jill said. "I knew they had to be lying, but... it's not true, right?"

"Of course not," I said. "You're my friend. I'd never hurt you."

"And Adrian... you're really alive?" Jill said. "Really _really_?"

"Really really," Adrian said. "I don't hate you either. You're my little bitty Jailbait friend. You live in my head..."

A few feet away, one of the Strigoi let out a horrible shriek as Eddie staked it.

"I don't live in your head anymore," Jill said. "But I'm glad you're alive. I... I thought you were dead."

"Not dead," Adrian said. "High as a kite, though."

There was a loud sniffle from the other side of the pipes. "As long as you're alive, I don't care," Jill said. "The last I saw from inside your head, you were getting shot and Sydney was catching you and you were thinking about how much you loved her and then you... died."

"I got better," Adrian said, and giggled again. "We're all OK, don't worry!" There was another horrible shriek and Adrian added, "Except the Strigoi, 'cause Castile just killed them. Of course, they weren't really so alive to begin with."

Eddie stood up, wiping off his stake. "Jill," he called. "I'm here, Jill. Are you OK?"

"Eddie!" Jill shouted. "Omigod! It's so good to hear your voice."

Eddie ran past me toward the door and began pulling the pipes aside. "I'm coming, Jill. Don't worry. It's going to be all right now."

I made sure Adrian was settled against the wall, then got out my Strigoi powder.

"Eddie," Jill called. She sounded exhausted. "I... I don't know if I can move the pipes again. I'm just about out of... energy or whatever. I... used soooo much magic tonight. Like, I can barely move."

"It's OK," Eddie said. "We can do it. We'll get you out of here." He looked over to me. "Any chance you can help me out with these pipes, Sydney?"

"I'm working," I said. I had already dusted the blond Strigoi, and now I was moving on to the middle aged Strigoi. The creature began shriveling and dissolving as I watched. "I'll be right there."

"I'm just glad you came, Sydney," Jill said. "I _knew_ you didn't hate me. I _knew_ they had to be lying."

"Of course they were lying," Adrian said. "They kidnapped her, too. They... weren't so nice to her."

"Are you OK, Sydney?" Jill asked. "Did they hurt you?"

"I'm fine," I said. I had just dusted the large Strigoi, but its body wasn't shriveling up and dissolving like it was supposed to. "Um, Eddie?"

"What?" Eddie said, testily.

"I think this one is..." I said, and that's when it started to move a little. I tried not to scream, but the noise I made was enough to get Eddie's attention.

"I'm coming," Eddie said, and ran to my side. He got out his stake and jabbed it into the creature's back, then, placing his foot on the tip of the stake, stepped down hard to drive it in even deeper. The creature let out a groan and then fell still. Eddie looked at me for a moment, then said, "Got that powder stuff, Chief?"

"Yeah," I said, and shook some onto the Strigoi's back. I smiled a little as it began to dissolve.

"Good catch," Eddie said. "I'm sorry. I should have known I didn't quite get that one."

"It's OK," I said. "Team effort."

"Right," Eddie said, and took my arm as we went back to Jill's door.

"What was that?" Jill asked.

"Just... a little snag," I said. "It's fine now. Now, let's get you out of there."

Eddie and I bent to the task of removing the pipes, and I said, "Do you want to tell us what happened, Jill? I mean, tonight?"

"I... I guess," Jill said. "I um, I had been in my room. And then like, the lights went out. They had been on, like, 24/7 since I got here. Made it hard to sleep, hard to _think,_ even. Anyway, when the lights went out, I tried the door, because I knew that the locks were electrical. The door opened right away, so I ran out into the hall, but I didn't know which way to go. There was lots of shouting and stuff. A few people ran by, Moroi I mean, and I went with them around the corner, and then there were some guards, but they couldn't see in the dark. A few Moroi grabbed the guards and started feeding. I was hungry too but... I didn't want to do that. What they were doing, it wasn't good. So I kept running. Then the next thing I knew, some of the same Moroi I'd been running with, they came after me, 'cause they weren't Moroi anymore. I was scared, so I ducked into here. I found a dead HQ guy in here and..." She trailed off.

"What happened, sweetie?" Adrian asked. He seemed to have gotten over some of his wooziness, and he bent down to help us move the pipes. "It's OK, you can tell us."

"I... drank some of his blood," Jill said, so softly that I had to strain to hear her. "I would never have done that, normally."

"Is it taboo?" I asked. "To drink from a dead person?"

"You just don't do that," Jill said. "You don't drink from unwilling donors. If they're dead, it's like... desecration. But I was so hungry!"

"It's OK," Adrian said. "You had been starved for a week. No one blames you. Other people did much worse than that."

"I know," Jill said, and sniffed. "Anyway, once I had some blood, even though it was kind of gross, I felt a lot better. I got some of my magic back. Some Strigoi came and I... just pulled as hard as I could on all the water in the walls and all the pipes went crumbling and... Well, you can see." She sniffed again. "I kept telling myself, 'this isn't the end, Jill, you'll get out of this, just don't give up, keep fighting.' But I was so scared..."

"It's OK now," Eddie said, as he continued to work. "You did great. Now we're going to go home."

"Well, home or Mexico," Adrian said.

"Yeah, home may not exactly work out," Eddie said. "But in any case, not here." With a grunt, Eddie moved the last pipe to the side and pulled open the door, and we all ran inside.

I was surprised to find, not a cell like the others we'd seen, but a guard room of some kind. There was a large emergency light in here and I could clearly see a row of TV monitors hanging from the ceiling – all dark – as well as a few desks and empty swivel chairs. And there in the corner, sitting on the concrete floor, was Jill.

She looked dirty, sickly, and soaking wet, as if she'd jumped into a pool in all her clothes. But her face was alight with joy as Eddie ran to her side and knelt down beside her.

"Jill," he said, pulling her into his arms. "Oh, Jill. I'm so sorry it took so long."

"It's ok," she said, resting her head on his shoulder. "It's ok, Eddie. You did great. You came for me. That's all that matters." She smiled at me and Adrian and waved us over. "Come give me a hug, guys. I can't... quite stand up right now, I'm sorry."

Eddie relinquished his hold on Jill long enough to let Adrian give her a hug, and then I had a turn. Once we had both hugged her, he sat next to her, one arm around her proprietorially, and we formed a little circle on the concrete floor.

"Oh, little Jill," Adrian sighed. "I'm so glad you're ok. I was so worried when I couldn't find you."

"_You_ were worried?" Jill said, with a little laugh. "You don't understand, Adrian. I was there, in your head, when you got shot at that place you went to save Sydney. I even felt the bullets." She tapped her shoulder and her chest. "And then you were in that car, and I could feel how much pain you were in, and Sydney looking down at us like her heart was going to break." She looked over at me, and wiped a few tears away. "And then you died! I... I couldn't tune into you after that. Where the bond used to be, there was just nothing."

"Sydney saved me," Adrian said. "She brought me back from the edge with her crazy alchemy." As he spoke, he dug into his bag and pulled out a baggie full of muffins, which he handed over to Jill. She stared at them for a moment, then began shoving them into her mouth so quickly I was scared she might choke.

"Sydney," Jill said, her mouth full. "Thank you for saving him." It sounded more like "Thmk yrgh fr shvnk hmn."

I smiled at her, then noticed something in the corner of the room – a dead body. Jill noticed where I was looking, and said, "Yeah, that's him. The... guy. I didn't kill him, I swear. When I found him, he was still warm but..."

"It's ok," Adrian said. "We don't have to talk about it. Now, finish those muffins real quick, ok?"

She nodded. "They're really good," she said, with a mouth full of muffin, then tried to get up off the floor. She instantly sank back to the floor, a miserable look on her face. "I'm sorry, guys," she said. "I'm kind of weak."

"Do you have any injuries?" I asked, gently. "Something Adrian can help you with?"

She shook her head. "Nothing like that. I just don't have the energy to stand. I tried while you guys were getting in. I just... can't. I drank so much of that guy's blood, but I don't feel much better. It's like, it didn't really help."

"We'll get you some fresh blood," Eddie said. "I'll carry you out if I have to. I'll take you to the nearest feeder and you'll be fine."

Jill nodded. "That'd be nice," she said, smiling, though her eyes were full of tears. "I've been so hungry."

There was a noise in the hall outside, and we all froze.

"More of them?" Jill said, staring. "How many of them are there?"

"Can't be too many more," Eddie said, getting to his feet. "I've killed twelve of them. How many can there be?"

"I don't know," Jill said. "There were so many..."

"We have to get out of here," I said. "Come on, Jill, let's get you up."

Adrian and I tried to help her to her feet, but her arms had no strength, either, and she couldn't hold on to us.

"Do you think you'd be able to walk if you had some fresh blood?" Eddie asked. He was staring down at the stake in his hands.

"Probably," Jill said. "Why? Can you get me some?"

"You can have some of mine," Eddie said.

There was a moment's stunned silence, and then I said, "Eddie, there are limits. You're our best fighter, and you're already injured. If you feed Jill..."

"I'll be ok in a few minutes," Eddie said. "Rose used to feed Lissa all the time and she was fine."

"But I can't do it," Jill whispered. "It's not just about the fighting thing. I mean, after what you've been through? I can't... bite you. It's not right."

"It's an emergency," Eddie said. "I... I don't mind." He smiled uncomfortably. "We can hide out in here for a few minutes while I recover. The sun already set, so a few minutes won't make any difference."

"No," Jill said, resolutely. "I won't take your blood, Eddie." She tried to stand up again, but fell back to the ground. She tried one more time, with even less success.

I thought about it. If Eddie was carrying Jill, he wouldn't be able to fight any Strigoi we met. Adrian would have trouble carrying Jill any great distance, as would I. We needed to have her ambulatory. Even if Eddie was a little compromised, he would be able to fight, especially with the rest of us backing him up. I glanced at Adrian and we both nodded.

"Jill," Adrian said, softly, turning to the girl. "We've got to get out of here, and it'll be easier if you can walk. Just take some of Eddie's blood."

"I can't," she said, miserably. "Adrian, can't you just heal me?"

"There's nothing really wrong with you," Adrian said. "I mean, a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing I can fix with Spirit."

"Jill," I said. "We can worry about all of it later. Right now, we have to get out of here while we still can."

"But..." Jill said. "Give me a minute for the food to kick in – maybe it'll help."

"Actually, it might do the opposite, temporarily," I said. "Your body is rushing to digest the food, and that's a time when your metabolism dips a little."

"Jill," Eddie said, putting a hand on her arm. "Come on. It's OK. I know you won't take too much. Just enough to get you back on your feet." He angled his neck beneath her mouth. "Go on," he said, and tensed up a little.

"No," Jill said, leaning away from him.

"You don't understand," Eddie said, looking at her. "You're the only one on earth I'd ever let bite me."

"Because you want to make up for not saving me before," she asked. "With Lee, or with that guy who tried to kill me back at Court..."

"No," Eddie said. "That's not why."

"Why then?" Jill asked.

"It doesn't matter why," I said. "He's offering you blood, and you need it, so just take it, OK?"

"No," Jill said. "I don't need it. I'll be fine." Again she tried to get to her feet, and again she collapsed on the ground.

There was a long silence. I thought about how Adrian had refused to let me feed him until I reassured him of my feelings. Jill, I knew, cared too much about Eddie to take advantage of his good nature. But maybe if she knew how he felt about her... I sighed and said, "Ok, Eddie, you're going to have to tell her."

"Tell me what?" Jill asked.

"Tell her why," I said.

"He's my Guardian," Jill said. "I know."

"It's not just that," I said, but Adrian put a hand on my arm before I could say any more."Let Eddie tell her," he said, and I nodded. He moved a few feet away from them, and I did the same.

"Tell me what?" Jill asked, more loudly. "What's going on?"

Eddie sighed. "This isn't how I wanted this to play out," he said. "But... Jill, I..." He shrugged helplessly, apparently unable to find the words.

"You what?" Jill asked, exasperated. "What's the big secret? Why does everyone know but me?" she asked, starting to cry again. "Just tell me, OK? I'm having a really, really, _really_ bad day."

Eddie drew in breath, then expelled it. "Don't cry," he said. "Please, it's not worth crying about. I'm not worth crying about." He reached out to wipe a tear from her cheek. "I'm really not, Jill. I'm just a disgraced dhampir ex-Guardian wanted criminal who..." He swallowed heavily. "... Who is completely in love with you."

Jill's eyes widened. "What?" she whispered.

Eddie looked down at his hands, gesturing helplessly. "Now you know," he said.

"But that doesn't make any sense," Jill said, staring at him. "None of this makes any sense."

"Couldn't agree more, JB," Adrian said. "Castile's pretty socially inept. And we can make fun of him for that later. But right now, you need to take a few sips of his nice fresh blood so that you can walk again and we can get the fuck out of here."

Jill nodded, eyes wide. Then she put a hand on Eddie's face, forcing him to look at her. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I couldn't," he said.

"Bite now, talk later," Adrian said. "Come on, guys, there are Strigoi out there."

"OK, OK," Jill said, laughing a little nervously. "I guess... we'll have to talk later, huh?"

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"Well, come here, then," Jill said. She gave him a soft kiss on the lips. "I'll try not to hurt you."

Eddie nodded, then glanced back at me and Adrian. "Can you guys not... watch?" he said.

"Actually," Jill said. "I think it's better they do. Adrian, Sydney, if I take too much, stop me, OK? I can't... I can't promise I'll... stop. In time, I mean. I've been really hungry."

Adrian nodded. "I got you," he said.

I nodded as well. "We're here, Jill," I said.

Jill wiped her eyes, kissed Eddie again, then bent down to his neck. I saw Eddie's body tense up as she bit down on the soft flesh, and then he exhaled in sheer pleasure. After a few moments, Adrian said, in a warning tone, "Jill?"

She didn't move.

"Jill!"" he said, more sharply. "Stop. Jill, stop."

She pulled away suddenly, guiltily wiping her mouth, then looked at Eddie, who was grinning and wobbling where he sat. "Omigod omigod omigod omigod..." she said. "Omigod I took too much..."

"He's alright," Adrian said, going to her side. "You stopped in time, Jill. He's fine."

"I'm... fine..." Eddie said, and laughed. "Jill, you're so beautiful, you know that? Like a goddess come down to earth or something."

"Oh Eddie," she said. "I'm so sorry."

"Whyyyyy?" Eddie said. "I feel great!" He laughed again.

"Yeah," Jill said. "I know." She looked at me. "Sydney, this must gross you out so much," she said. "You must think I'm a... a... monster."

I winced at the word. "No," I said. "No way. You've just been starved. I understand." There was a little trickle of blood on the corner of her mouth that she'd forgotten to wipe. I knew I should go to her, give her a hug, but I found myself backing up a little, instead.

Eddie lolled his head over to look at me. "Hey, Sydney," he said. "You're pretty, too. Not as pretty as Jill, but pretty pretty." He laughed. "Pretty pretty, pretty pretty."

"Gee, thanks," I said.

"And I'm sorry I believed the false memories they gave me," Eddie said. "You're a good person. A good friend. Like, for real."

"Thanks, Eddie," I said, with a bit more sincerity, and looked over at Adrian. "How soon until we get him back on his feet?"

"Five minutes?" Adrian said. "I'll see if maybe I can heal him, unless you have something in your bag of tricks?"

"Hmm..." I said. "I do have an endorphin blocker, I think. A little of that would take away some of the high... Won't give him back his lost blood, though."

"I might be able to help with that part," Adrian said, and bent over Eddie, eyes closed. "And man, these broken ribs..."

I stood up and began taking bottles out of my bag, while Jill knelt next to Eddie, helping him to rest his head in her lap. "Eddie, we're going to get you fixed up again, so just relax." She stroked the hair back from his face and kissed his forehead.

"Wait," Eddie said. "Sydney? I think there's... something..."

"Don't worry," I said. "This is alchemist technology. You can trust it."

"No, I mean..." he said. "Adrian, I... Adrian, look at the..."

"Shhh..." Adrian said, his eyes closed in concentration as he tried to heal Eddie's injuries.

"I think he's talking about me," said a cold voice, an oddly familiar one.

I looked up from my alchemy bag just in time to see skin pale as paper, eyes ringed in red. Then there were stone-like arms clasped around me from behind, lifting me off the ground. Ice cold hands gripped my chin, ready to snap my neck.

"Adrian Ivashkov," said the Strigoi. Its voice was in my ear. "I know all about you. I read your case file. You're the one who killed my father."

I knew the voice. I had heard it a lot when I'd been tied up in the trunk space of a Jeep Grand Cherokee.

The creature holding me by the neck had once been David Wheldon, Jr.


	70. II: The War of the Birds and the Beasts

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 55: The War of the Birds and the Beasts**

"Hey, Ivashkov," David Wheldon, Jr said. "Look what I got."

He had one arm around my waist, crushing my left arm to my side, but my right hand could still move a little. I began moving that hand slowly, very slowly, toward the blue velvet bag that hung at my waist.

"If you hurt Sydney..." Adrian said.

"I've already hurt Sydney," David said. "I was present when my father hurt her plenty." I couldn't see his face, but I could tell from his voice that he was smiling. "We were trying to gather information for the plan, but that doesn't mean we couldn't have some fun while we were at it."

Jill gasped a little, and Eddie tried to sit up, but failed.

"Why don't you tell us about the plan?" I said, still moving my hand as slowly as I could. "You might as well, at this point."

"I'm not going to satisfy your curiosity," the Strigoi said. "This isn't a fucking episode of _Scooby Doo_. Besides, I don't care much about the plan anymore. I'm going to move on to better things."

"Not if you hurt Sydney," Adrian said. "Do you know how long a Strigoi can live without blood?"

"Do you know how fun it was to slice open your girlfriend's arms and legs?" the monster replied.

Jill covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes filling with tears. I looked away from her and focused my attention on the blue bag.

"A Strigoi can live 750 years without food," Adrian said. "You learn about this sort of thing when you're a Moroi. There are documented cases of Strigoi being restrained in heavy chains and guarded by generations of Moroi keepers. Strigoi can basically just live on and on, starving to death _extremely_ slowly. That's what I'd do to you. I've got the money. I can devote my entire fortune to hiring people to continue torturing you for long after I'm dead."

"You talk big," David said. "How exactly are you going to catch me?"

"The question is better put, how are you going to get away?" Adrian said. "I have plenty of money and a lot of friends. I can hire _hundreds_ of guardians if I have to. I will hire the entire population of Baia if I have to. But it _will_ happen. And I won't just stake you because what's the fun in that? You will basically never finish paying for it if you harm her."

I felt the muscles in David's body tense up as Adrian spoke. It was clear that Adrian meant every word he was saying. David knew it, and so did I. I felt certain that Adrian really would devote the rest of his life to torturing David Wheldon if the Strigoi killed me, and that just made me want to survive even more.

As Adrian continued to describe in detail the plans he had for making David's afterlife a living hell, my right hand touched the velvet pouch that hung from my belt-loop. Slowly, very slowly, I withdrew what was inside. It was Maeve's gift to me: her athame, her sacred knife.

"... And then finally," Adrian concluded, "Your undead remains will just collapse into powder. And my hired help will set that powder on fire. I'm not sure if you'll be able to feel the searing pain –"

"Enough," David said. "This is getting really boring."

The athame seemed to grow warmer and warmer as I moved it slowly, very slowly, so that its sharp end was pointed behind me. Maeve had told me I might need it to cut through some things. I hoped that it could cut through a Strigoi's ribcage, right to its heart.

"I'm not bored," Adrian said. "I'm having fun chatting with you."

"We're not chatting," David said. "You're just talking away. I've got your girlfriend by the neck, asshole. _You_ should be listening to _me_."

"Fair enough," Adrian said. "I'm listening."

"Me too," said Jill, faintly, as she helped Eddie finally sit up all the way.

"What about you, bitch?" the Strigoi said. "Are you listening?"

I wanted to sigh. What was it with men, alive or undead, always calling women they didn't like "bitch"? But I didn't say that. All I said was, "I'm listening, David."

"Good," the Strigoi said. "This is how it's going to be."

"Tell me," I said, slowly moving my hand so that the point of the knife was aimed toward the monster's heart. "I'm listening."

"Good," he said. "First, I'm going to tear out your throat. Then I'm going to kill your boyfriend and your dhampir friend. Then I'm going to turn your little princess into a Strigoi. Then she and I are going to hunt down and kill everyone you've ever cared about. Even that little shit-head Joe. Don't think I didn't notice that he was helping you back there."

"That's a very... thorough plan," I said, musing on how little the transformation from human to Strigoi had actually changed David's nature. He had been a horrible human being, and he was a horrible Strigoi.

"So, any last words?" David asked.

"No," I whispered, steadying myself. The knife was in position. I prayed that I had the strength to send it deep into the monster's sternum.

"What about you?" David asked, addressing Adrian. "Want to say goodbye to your little vampire lover girlfriend?"

"Do I have to remind you that you're a vampire too, now?" Adrian asked.

"Shut up," David said. "I'll always be –"

But I didn't care to hear the rest of David's boast. While he was focused on Adrian, I took the opportunity to jab the athame deep into his chest, aiming upward toward his heart. To my astonishment, the knife slid in with ease, as if the Strigoi's chest were made of soft butter. The monster screamed and let go of me in surprise, then reached for the knife. But almost the second he touched the handle, he screamed again and let go, smoke pouring from his singed hands.

I had already moved away from him as quickly as I could. While he screamed and stared at his hands, I jogged over to pick up the flamethrower, not turning my back on him for a second.

"What the fuck?" David was shouting. He didn't seem able to move. "What did you do to me, you bitch?"

"Can't you think of any other insult?" I said. "Really, 'bitch' gets so tiresome."

"Slut," David said. "Fucking slut whore..."

I sighed as I picked the flamethrower up. "Very creative," I said, hoping that my voice was not as shaky as my hands. "I bet you're the first man in history who thought to insult a woman based on his perception of her sexual history."

"What are you talking about, bitch?" David said, and made a movement toward me.

"OK, enough of that," Adrian said, springing to his feet. He shot the monster twice, once in each eye. Blinded, the monster shrieked again.

"Go on, Sydney!" Adrian shouted at me. "Burn the little shit to a crisp!"

"Do it," Jill shouted. "I know you can!"

"You got this," said Eddie faintly.

My hands managed to cooperate with my terrified brain, and I pulled the trigger on the flamethrower. A huge flame shot from the barrel, and I ran toward Wheldon, flame first. The fire seemed to leap from the flamethrower to the monster, which screamed and fell to the ground, flames running through it as if it had been made of tissue paper. I kept the flame on it until the remains of David Wheldon, Junior, had burned into ash.

In the middle of the ashes was Maeve's sacred knife, apparently unharmed. Hesitantly, I bent down to examine it. I held my hand over it and felt no radiant heat, so I picked it up. Blinking in confusion, I put the knife back in the blue velvet pouch, then turned around to look at my friends.

Eddie was staring, a huge smile on his face. "Chief," he said. "That was amazing." He began applauding, and to my embarrassment, Jill and Adrian joined in.

"My beautiful golden-eyed girl," Adrian said, running over to me. I threw my arms around him and he kissed me, spinning me around the room, while Jill and Eddie continued to applaud.

"OK, OK," I said. "Thanks, guys, but we don't really have time for this."

Adrian put me down and shushed Jill and Eddie. "Are you hurt at all, sweetheart?" he asked, his expression more serious now.

"I'm fine," I said.

"How did you do that?" Adrian asked. "What was that silver thing? A stake?"

"Maeve's athame," I said, taking it out of the pouch to show it to him.

"It's duller than a letter opener," Adrian said, running his finger over the blade. "And didn't you just pull it out of a fire? I mean, it's quite cool."

I shrugged. "It's magic," I said. "Maeve's pretty powerful."

"Who's Maeve?" Jill asked.

"Our friend," I said. "She made those muffins."

"Oh," Jill said. "They were good muffins."

Adrian was still marveling at the athame. "How the hell did you stake a Strigoi with _this_ thing?" He shook his head.

"I guess it was Maeve's magic," I said. "Anyway, that was very scary, and I... I don't want to talk about it. Let's just go, OK? I'll feel better when we're out of here."

"Oh, God, me too," Jill said, before Adrian could say anything else. "Totally, let's just go."

"Thanks, Jill," I said, glad she'd helped change the subject.

She smiled at me, then looked down at Eddie. "Can you stand up?" she asked him.

"Um," he said, wobbling a little. "Maybe?" He laughed.

"Hang on," Adrian said. "I'll help with that."

So while Jill and I guarded the door, ready to unleash fire and water as needed, Adrian did his best to heal the most pressing of Eddie's injuries. Then Adrian and Jill stood watch while I mixed up a mild endorphin blocker for Eddie to drink. Eddie made a face as he swallowed the mouthful, then shook slightly from head to toe.

"God," he said. "This sucks. Ugh."

"I know," I said. "I'm sorry. It was the only way to get some of the vampire high out of you. Do you think you can fight?"

"Yeah," he said, getting to his feet. He tried a few practice swings, then nodded. "I think I'm ready," he said. "So, is everyone ready? Sydney, is your flamethrower still working?"

I nodded and shot out a little burst of flame.

"Jill, you can walk and everything?"

Jill smiled, then a fine mist of water rose up from her clothing and hair and settled in a puddle in the corner. "I'm great," she said, shaking out her now-dry hair. "I hope it doesn't sound weird or anything to say it like this or anything, but your blood is kind of really powerful and stuff, and I don't know if it's because you're a dhampir or because of, like, maybe, some other reason, but I feel..." She paused, blushing. "I feel really good," she concluded.

Eddie smiled and met her eyes, and they both laughed nervously.

When a few moments passed and they didn't move or look away from each other, Adrian cleared his throat. "I'm doing fine, too, thanks for asking," he said. "Gun's full of ammo, and I'm ready to rock. Let's get the fuck out of here, ok?"

"Right," Eddie said, shaking himself a little. "Right. Yeah. So, Jill, Adrian, do either of you hear or... sense... any Strigoi in the hallway?"

Jill and Adrian both paused, then shook their heads.

"There are sounds," Jill said. "But... I don't know what they are, exactly."

"And I smell... something," Adrian said. "I... I'm not sure what. It's lots of things. Let's just run, OK?"

We nodded at each other, and then stepped out into the hallway again. Instinctively, we started to turn right, back the way we'd come, since it was a somewhat shorter path from there to the stairway. Adrian and Jill walked on either side of me, with Eddie in the lead, and I realized after a moment that Jill was using her power to part the water, allowing us to walk on dry ground.

"So, where are we going?" Jill asked, speaking in library tones.

"This level is shaped like a square, with the stairway at the corner..." I said.

"No," Jill said, interrupting. "I mean, after we get outside."

"Mexico," Adrian said. "I hope-o that you speak-o Spanish-o, Senorita Sage."

"Claro que sí," I said. "Nadie va a pensar que yo soy una nativa, pero puedo -"

"So, yes, then," Adrian said. "I should have known." He chuckled.

"Wait," Jill said. "Why Mexico? Why not back to Amberwood or Court or something?"

Adrian sighed. "It's not safe, JB," he said.

"Not safe?" Jill repeated, incredulously.

I squeezed her hand. "It's because Eddie, Adrian and I are all wanted by both human and Moroi authorities," I said. "And we have reason to believe that people we trust, like Rose and Lissa, have had their memories tampered with."

"What?" Jill said, in a near whisper.

"Yeah, it's a bad sitch," Adrian said. "We're going to have to hide out for a bit."

"Oh," Jill said. "I guess you can explain it later." She laughed a hallow, exhausted laugh. "I'm like, kind of overwhelmed right now."

"Fair enough," I said. "I'm kind of overwhelmed, too."

Jill nodded. "Oh, by the way," she said. "I'm sorry I didn't help you with the Strigoi. I was trying to think of how I could hit him with a water ball without getting you, too, but – he was so close to you. I was scared that if I thwacked him, he would just snap your neck, like a reflex action."

"That's why I didn't shoot him," Adrian said. "I wanted to, though."

"I'm sorry, too," Eddie said. "I couldn't stand..."

"It's OK, guys," I said. "Really, it is. It worked out fine, and that's all that matt –"

"Wait," Adrian said, interrupting me. He stopped short, putting out a hand to stop me as well. "Everyone, stop, we... we have to go the other way."

"Why?" I asked.

"I smell humans," Adrian said. "_Lots_ of them. From down the hall ahead of us."

Jill let out a little cry. "Oh, God," she whispered. "Me too. They smell like those guys. The guards, I mean. They always had this weird smell..."

"And there are lots of them, and I mean, lots and lots," Adrian said. "Like at least... thirty or forty."

"Closer to fifty," Jill said. "I can hear their footsteps. I've gotten good at footsteps, in here."

"Fifty?" Eddie repeated. "Do you think they have guns?" He had begun to back up, back toward the room where we'd found Jill.

"It's _them_," Jill said, as the rest of us began to back up as well. "Of course they have guns. They probably sleep and shower with their guns."

"And I smell major league adrenaline, or... or... something," Adrian said. "A fucked up weird adrenaline smell. Is that what you smell, Jill?"

"That's what I thought at first but... now I don't know," Jill said. "But we should run."

So we began running, back the way we'd come. Fifty armed HQ guards was something I didn't really want to face at the moment, and I didn't like what Jill and Adrian were saying about their smell. A strange, adrenaline-like smell? I had a thought as to why that might be.

At least we were moving more quickly now that Jill was dispersing the water for us, and after a few minutes, we made it to the end of the second hallway. We rounded the corner, and that's when we heard a loud bellow coming from the end of the third hallway.

"What's that?" I whispered.

"Strigoi," Adrian said. "Nine or ten of them."

"Eleven," Jill whispered.

"Heavenly father," I whispered. I was so beyond fear at the moment that I could barely process the information.

"So," Jill said, in an oddly blank tone. "Would we rather face eleven Strigoi or 50 gun-toting HQ guards?"

"I... I don't know," Eddie said. "I have to think."

"Are we going to die?" Jill asked. "We can't now. We just _can't_." But she didn't start to cry.

"We won't," Eddie said. "I'm not going to let us die. Just... let me think."

We stood completely still in the damp hallway for a moment. Adrian pulled me a little closer, squeezing my hand. Then Eddie said, "OK, back into the alcove, everyone." He was pointing to the alcove at the intersection of the second and third hallway.

"Do you have an idea, Guardian?" Adrian asked, as we followed Eddie's lead.

"Kind of," Eddie said.

The alcove was about five square meters in area, just about big enough for the four of us to lie down all in a row if we'd wanted to, but we stood flat against the wall. As I looked at the intersection of the two hallways, I had a flash of insight.

"You're hoping that they won't see us," I murmured. "That the Strigoi will come down that hallway" – I pointed to our left – "and the HQ guys will come down that hallway" – I pointed to our right – "and they'll fight each other, and not notice us."

"They'll notice us," Eddie said. "No way around it. But if we keep to this corner, maybe they'll focus on each other. Hopefully, the Strigoi will be more interested in killing the people who kidnapped them, and the HQ will consider the Strigoi to be the greater threat."

"It can be hoped," I said. We were all using our softest whispers. "Or maybe it'll be like the Aesop fable about the birds, the beasts, and the bats."

"Which one is that?" Eddie asked.

"The birds and the beasts were going to war," I said. "And the birds asked the bats to join their side, but the bats said no, they didn't want to fight. Then the beasts asked the bats to join _their_ side, but again, the bats said no. So when the war began, both sides considered the bats the enemy, and the bats were utterly decimated."

"That's a horrible story," Jill said. "Why did you tell us that?"

"Sorry," I said. "I... it's just what I was thinking."

"We can't think like that," Jill said. "We'll lose for sure if we think like that. We've got to have hope or this won't work."

"That's exactly right, JB," Adrian said. "I've missed you, you know."

Jill smiled a little. "I missed you too, Adrian," she said.

"Things weren't the same without you," Adrian said. "We needed the fourth member of our team."

Eddie stopped short. "That's right," he said. "You're the fourth member of our team."

"Um," Jill said. "And?"

"And we have your water powers now," Eddie said. "Jill, how much magic do you have left in you?"

"I don't know," she said. "I didn't even know I could do as much as I did tonight. I just had this weird, kind of ugly energy after I drank from that guy. Couldn't quite stand up, but my brain felt kind of squirrely, like I had magic to spare."

"Did that guard you drank from smell funny?" I asked.

"Like that weird adrenaline smell?" Jill asked. "Yeah, all the guards here do."

I wanted to ask her more questions, but I knew there wasn't time, so I let Eddie interrupt again.

"Do you think you can do your water shield thing again?" he asked her. "Like, if we sat here in the corner, behind your shield, while the Strigoi and the HQ guys fight it out..."

"I'll do my best," Jill said. "I really will."

There was a long pause after that, during which even I could hear the sound of lots of human feet coming from our right, and the sound of mean laughter coming from our left. Adrian pulled me into his arms and kissed me, and I clung to him for a moment. But the moment couldn't last long.

From our right, I heard the sounds of feet splashing through the deep puddles, and then I heard a young-sounding male voice say, "We have four warm spots up ahead to the left, and eleven cold bodies around the corner, sir."

"Attention," said an amplified voice. It sounded like it was coming through a megaphone. "Surrender and you will not be killed. We will return you to your cells..."

"There are eleven Strigoi coming," Eddie said. "Do you really want to fight with people like us when there are eleven angry Strigoi coming?"

"We will return you to your cells," the amplified voice went on. "Surrender and you will not be killed at this point in time."

"Gee, that sounds like a great deal," Adrian shouted. "Let-me-think-about-it-_**no**_."

The man laughed into his megaphone. "That's fine with us," he said.

"Adrian," I murmured. "Can you see their auras?"

Adrian paused, staring at the wall that hid us from the guards. "Yeah," he said, softly. "Hey, they're all fluorescent yellow and orange, like yours was when..."

"When I was on Vigil," I said.

"Vigil?" Jill and Eddie asked, in near unison.

I gave them a quick summary of the effects of the compound, concluding by saying, "And if they're all on Vigil, then we can't necessarily expect them to be rational. They'll be hyper aware, extra strong, and extremely ready to fight. They might also be hallucinating slightly, if they've been on it long enough."

"It's like the alchemist form of crystal meth," Adrian muttered.

"I guess," I said.

"And that stuff is in me right now?" Jill whispered.

Adrian's eyes lost focus as he looked at the space over Jill's head. "Yeah," he said. "Sorry."

"On the bright side," I said, "It might be what's been helping you use so much magic for so long, even though you've been deprived of proper care for days. You'll just be really tired when it wears off, but it's not dangerous."

"As long as I don't hallucinate," Jill said. "As if I could hallucinate anything worse than this."

There was a long pause after she spoke. Then Eddie said, "If they're off their rockers on Vigil, they're not going to see reason and side with us."

"No," I said. "I don't think they will."

"It's OK," Jill whispered. "We don't want them on our side anyway."

"Right," Eddie said, taking her hand.

Then a soft female voice cut through the darkness, as dark and cold as a winter's night. "Hey, down there," the voice said. "Am I looking at two Moroi, a dhampir, and a human?"

Another Strigoi laughed. "I think the human's an alchemist," he said. "Look at her cheek. She's got the lily."

"What a buffet," the female Strigoi said.

"Listen," Eddie called. "There's a whole troupe of HQ guards coming from that direction." He pointed down the hall to our right. "You don't want to fight with us – _they're_ the ones you want."

"Want for what?" one of the Strigoi said. "I'm sick of them. I had four or five of them and they taste like crap."

"Hey, Princess Dragomir," said the female Strigoi. "Just come with us. We'll Awaken you. It'll be great. You have no idea."

"No, thank you," Jill said.

"Unnatural beasts," came the amplified voice. "I must warn you that we _are_ armed. We _will_ be ending your existence. If you surrender, we will be quick and merciful – not that you deserve mercy."

"Mercy is a restrained quality..." said the female Strigoi. "Isn't that how it went? I used to know that line. I had to memorize it in English class, I think."

"I don't know and I don't care," said one of the other Strigoi, then added, in a louder voice, "We're not surrendering, you pathetic fucks."

"And we're not in a particularly merciful mood," said another, and they all laughed.

That's when I caught sight of the first living HQ guard I'd seen all night. He was carrying a flamethrower and a gun and was wearing a thick collar around his neck. Then another guard marched into view, and another. By now, the Strigoi were getting closer as well.

"Surrender," said the HQ guard with the megaphone.

"Die," said one of the Strigoi.

And then the hallway was alive with movement and flame and bullets, but I was seeing all of it through a thin, shimmering wall of water, as Jill used her power to create a shield to protect us.

"Jill," I said. "That's... amazing."

It was oddly beautiful to see the bursts of flame filtered through the water shield. Then a bullet came flying toward us – and bounced off the water. Jill winced a little, but the shield held.

"I don't know... how long... I can do this," Jill said, with effort. "But... I'm going... to try … my best."

"I'll try to help, JB," Adrian said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "I'll sort of... lend you a little boost, ok?"

"Can't... hurt..." Jill said.

Eddie, meanwhile, was staring at the battle with the intensity of a cat getting ready to pounce.

"Eddie," I murmured. "Just wait. They're going to do a lot of damage to each other, and then when the time is right, we can run."

He nodded. "I'm just watching," he said, as he slowly rotated the stake in his hand.

So we watched from behind the safety of Jill's water shield as the Strigoi and the HQ guards fought. The humans were acting as if they felt no fear at all, which was probably the result of the large quantities of Vigil they'd been fed. And the problem with feeling no fear is that sometimes fear is completely warranted.

"Hey, Guardian," called one of the Strigoi as it snapped the neck of one of the guards. "Don't you want to get out here and fight? Do your job!" And then the Strigoi screamed as he got hit with a burst of flame and was forced to drop to the ground and roll in the water.

"This could drag out for a long time," Eddie said, looking at Jill. "I'm sorry." Beads of something – sweat or water – were dripping down her face as she concentrated on the water shield.

"You're doing amazing, Jill," I said. "I'm so incredibly impressed."

"Thanks," Jill said. "Means... a lot... from you." Another bullet bounced off the shield, and Jill reformed it with obvious effort.

"I don't mean to alarm anyone," Adrian said, softly. "But does anyone else smell that?"

"Smell... what...?" Jill asked.

"Smoke," Adrian said.

"Flamethrowers," Eddie said, gesturing.

"No," Adrian said. "Not from that. It's coming from... up there."

"I just smell... sweat and water and blood," Eddie said. "And flamethrower flame."

"I... I think I smell it..." Jill said. "It smells... like chemicals on fire..."

"Chemicals?" I whispered. "Guys, didn't you say that you smelled some sort of flammable chemicals in that... ditch or moat or whatever it was?"

Eddie sniffed deeply, then let out a particularly long and creative expletive. He raked his hands through his hair angrily, then moved close to the water shield. "Hey!" he shouted. "HQ fuckwits! Did you set the building on fire?" The fight continued, and no one answered him. "_HEY_!" he shouted again. "_I think the building is on fire, you absolute wastes of space!_"

One of the guards shouted back, "No way. They said we had half an hour."

"He's just messing with us," said another guard. "There's no fire."

I sniffed at the damp air. It was hard to be sure over the scent of flamethrower chemicals and water, sweat, and blood, but I thought I could smell a bit of smoke. I thought back to that drainage ditch full of fire accelerant. Would an HQ worker set fire to that drainage ditch, knowing that plenty of his colleagues were inside?

"Of course he would," I muttered to myself, under my breath.

"What?" Jill asked.

"Nothing," I said, then looked at her more closely. "Are you OK?"

"I... I'm not sure how much longer..." she said.

"Am I helping at all?" Adrian asked.

"I think so," Jill said.

"Jill," Eddie said, looking over at her. "If you need to stop, I'll protect us for a while. It's ok."

"I think... I might... have to..." she said. And then both she and the water shield collapsed to the floor.

Adrian caught her, helping her to a sitting position, while Eddie leaped into action, immediately staking a Strigoi that a guard had already badly injured with a flamethrower. I ran over and took Jill from Adrian, while he got out his gun and started shooting. I helped Jill get as far back into the corner as we could get.

"I just need a short rest," Jill said. "I'm so tired, Sydney."

I held up my flamethrower. "If one gets close, I'll set it on fire," I said, and then remembered that we'd gotten a gun for Jill. I pulled it out of my bag and showed her how to turn the safety off and on, and how to pull the trigger.

"I would rather use my water," she said. "But... ok, I'll try. While I'm resting my magic."

So for a few minutes, Jill and Adrian helped defend us with their guns, shooting Strigoi in the eyes and humans in the legs. Eddie was fighting with an intensity I had never seen in him before. And me? I was just sitting there against the wall, feeling sort of useless.

And then a Strigoi slammed Eddie against a wall, and my friend fell hard on the ground, unconscious. The Strigoi bent down as if to bite Eddie's neck, and Jill leaped forward, screaming, "No!" Adrian reached for his gun and I started to run forward with my flamethrower. But before we could act, a ball of water about the size of a cannonball came hurtling at the Strigoi, knocking it away. Jill ran over to Eddie's side and picked him up awkwardly, half-dragging him across the floor. When he was in the comparative safety of our alcove, she stood in front of him, arms raised in front of herself protectively. With her water energy on overdrive, her soaking wet hair stood out from her head like Medusa's snakes. "No one... touches... Eddie," Jill said, between deep breaths. Then the water shield was back up, with the four of us behind it.

"That was awesome, Jill," Adrian said, as he bent down to look at Eddie's injuries. "Like, as in, I'm filled with awe. Remind me never to piss you off, ok?"

"Never... piss me... off," Jill said, but she was smiling.

"It was wonderful, Jill," I said. "Really. You're doing so well." I looked over at Adrian, who was still examining Eddie. "How is he, love?" I asked.

"Alive," Adrian said. "Hurt badly, though. Cracked skull."

"Oh, God," Jill whispered, but the water shield didn't so much as waver.

"Can you fix it?" I asked.

"I'll do my best," Adrian said, his hands on Eddie's head. "It's going to take a few minutes, though."

"What about... the fire?" Jill asked. "If it comes down here, the water will dry up. I... I can try to protect us but..."

"We'll have to get out of here before that happens," I said.

"Sure," Jill said, and laughed. "Good idea."

I recognized gallows laughter when I heard it, and my heart broke. I had been assigned to protect Jill, and while no one had ever mentioned anything about fire, insane ex-alchemist paramilitaries, or hoards of Strigoi in my mission briefing, she was still my responsibility. Besides, this group had targeted Jill because of her connection to me. None of my friends would be here right now if it weren't for me. It was all my fault. And with Eddie down for the count, it was up to me to get us out of here.

I looked around at the scene as best I could through the watery screen. Six of the Strigoi were still alive – or undead, I guess you could say – and the 25 or so remaining Vigil-crazed HQ guards were shooting and flaming indiscriminately, occasionally even hitting each other. How could we get past the triple danger of evil, crazy, and fire? And if we did – what would we do next?


	71. II: The Light From The Door

_A/N: Just a quick note in case you care... an athame is a ritual knife used in Wiccan practices. They're not usually sharp, but they're usually very pretty. The word is pronounced "ah-THA-may" (or at least that's how the Wiccans I've known have always pronounced it). _

**Book II: These Three Remain**

**Chapter 56: The Light Through the Door**

For a brief, awful moment, I thought about giving up. We were backed into a corner with immortal monsters and crazed paramilitary guards, hell-bent on killing us and each other, while the building itself was going up in flames. Our best fighter was too hurt to defend us, our best shooter was busy healing our best fighter, and our only remaining source of protection was a starved, exhausted Moroi teenager who had already been pushed past her limits. And I – I had nothing to contribute.

"Hey, Sydney," Jill said, startling me from my thoughts a little. "If Eddie... can't fight... _we'll_ have to fight. There are only... a few more... Strigoi to go. Should I... kill them... or do you want to?"

I stared at her. Somehow, she was still managing a smile. "What?" I said.

"I mean... if you want... we can split 'em," she said. "Three for you... three for me. What... do you think?"

"I think that's only fair," I said. "And I think... I think you'd look great with a molnija mark."

"You... too..." she said. "We can go together... once this is over."

"I can't wait," I said, wiping away a few tears.

"I'll use my magic... to kill 'em... and you'll use yours," she said.

"I'm not magic," I said.

"Sure... you are," Jill said. "You're the most... magical... person I know."

"You do actual magic," I said.

"But I'm... a Moroi," she said. "I'm... supposed to. But you're... human. That... makes it special."

"What I do isn't magic," I said.

"Of course it is," she said. "You... _do_ things. I saw them... in Adrian's head. I know... what you can do."

"It's true, Sydney," Adrian said, not looking up from Eddie's injuries. "You've got as much power as me or Jill – maybe more."

"Plus... you staked... that Strigoi... with your friend's... thingy," Jill said.

"The athame," I said, taking it out of the velvet pouch and looking at it. In the dim light, I could swear that it was glowing faintly.

"What's it... called?"

"An athame," I said. "It's duller than a butter knife, but I think Maeve cast a spell on it."

"The one... who made... those muffins?"

"That's the one," I said. "I'll um, introduce you two someday."

"Good," Jill said.

Then Adrian sighed deeply. "I did what I could to heal Eddie," he said, straightening up. "I think he's going to need to rest for a few minutes at least to finish healing. I'm basically out of juice, anyway. I've been using a lot of Spirit lately."

"But we need him awake _now_," I said. "We can't get out of here without his fighting skills. And we certainly can't carry him."

"I know that," Adrian said. He sighed again, then sat down on the ground next to me and put his arm around me. "If you've got any last tricks up your sleeve, now's the time, my love."

"I don't... I don't have... tricks," I said. "It's always been technology. And... and your magic."

"If you say so," he said.

"I wish it were different," I said. "But I don't even know how I did what I did in that car, when I healed you. And I don't know how to get out of this."

"Me either," Adrian said. We both watched the fighting for a few moments, and then he said, "You know, I want to say that I'm sorry we never got a chance to go to Rome in real life."

"Adrian," I said, trying to stop him, but he went on.

"And that we never got a chance to see how far we could go. Marriage, kids, things like that. But I think we could have made it work, don't you?"

I wanted to admonish him, tell him that it wasn't good to talk like that, but I couldn't. "I think we would have for sure," I said, and wiped at my eyes with my thumb.

"Two kids, at least," he said. "What do you think?"

"Sure," I said. "You would have made a great dad."

"Obviously," he said, then kissed my cheek. "But it's ok. We did pretty good, all things considered. And I wouldn't change anything." He made a face. "Well, I mean, I'd change this end part. But all the rest of it? No way."

"What about when I broke up with you and called you monster for weeks?"

"Meh," he said. "Every couple fights."

"Or when you got shot and almost died?"

"And then you said you loved me and brought me back from the edge," he said. "All worth it. Though I would have wanted to save you before they..." He trailed off, then leaned over and kissed the scar on my arm. "That's the other part I would change."

"Me too," I said.

"I love you, Sydney," he said.

"I love you too," I said, and put my head down on his shoulder.

We were quiet for a few more moments, and then Adrian chuckled. "You know what's crazy? This time, last week, we were at my art show," he said.

"That was only last week? It feels like a year ago, at least," I said.

"And I was schmoozing, and Eddie and Jill were casting looks on each other, and you were talking to your kooky history teacher..."

"Ms. Terwiliger," I said. "Who apparently told Maeve to look out for us. I meant to ask Eddie about that but forgot to..."

"Maeve knows Terwiliger?" Adrian said, surprised, then shrugged. "Anh, who cares now?" he said. "I want to think about that night."

"Ok," I said. "It was a great night."

"Oh, it was," he said. "I just remember thinking: 'Things are great. I've got my girl, I've got my friends, these people like my art... It's perfect.' And I was perfectly happy." He kissed the top of my head. "And then the night got even better, later."

"Yeah," I said. "It did."

He sighed happily. "That was great," he said. "That was the best day ever. Or up there at least."

"Yeah," I said again, distractedly. Something had begun to stir in my memory.

"What?" he asked. "What are you thinking about?"

"Ms. Terwiliger and I had the weirdest conversation while we were at the art show," I said, sitting up a little. "You know, when we were saying good-bye, she said that she wasn't going to see me again for some time. She wouldn't explain why, but she made a big deal out of telling me that I was a good student, something like that."

"That _is_ weird," Adrian said. "What else did you two talk about?"

"Oh, you know, the usual," I said. "Her affair with Rod Sterling. Things like that."

Adrian laughed, that beautiful laugh I loved so much. "Sounds fun," he said. "Wish I'd been there."

I put my head back down on his shoulder, wanting to be able to just enjoy being with Adrian, but I couldn't stop thinking about what Ms. Terwiliger had said during our conversation. Something about how if you came from a two-dimensional perspective, an object moving in three dimensions would seem to disappear from one spot and reappear in another. Something about... somatic projection.

"Hey," Adrian said, after a moment. "Your necklace is glowing."

I sat up, startled. "Which one?"

"The little wooden bird," he said. "The one Maeve made you. Wish it could fly us away from here."

"I wish that, too," I said. "I –"

"Guys?" Jill said, glancing behind her quickly. "I um, I think I need to rest again..."

"It's ok," Adrian said, getting to his feet. "I've got plenty of ammo. Rest a minute. Who knows? Maybe Eddie will wake up and we can get out of here."

"Ok," Jill said. "I can... I can use... my gun, too. Sydney, can you stay by Eddie?"

"I'll burn anyone who comes close enough," I said, kneeling down by my unconscious friend.

"Good," Jill said. "Here I go. Ready?"

"Ready," Adrian and I both said, and she lowered the shield and she and Adrian held their guns aloft, ready to defend us from anyone who might come close.

Thankfully, no one really seemed interested in us anymore. They didn't seem to even notice the smell of smoke drifting down from above, perhaps because they were too busy with flamethrower flame. The five remaining Strigoi were caught in a frenzy of bloodlust, grabbing the guards and pulling off their collars to get to their necks. But the HQ guards were well trained with their flamethrowers, and they were holding out in the fight far longer than I would have guessed.

Alone by the wall with Eddie, I found my left hand going to the cross I wore around my neck. I touched the lines of the cross, and felt also the glass heart, as well as the wooden dove, which was, as Adrian had said, glowing faintly. "Faith, hope, and love," I whispered to myself.

I looked at my friends and realized with a start that they were the embodiment of these attributes. Jill, so full of hope that she used every last bit of her strength to fight until we'd come for her, and then kept fighting, even when I had been ready to give up. Eddie, the atheist, still somehow the face of faith for me - the certainty that somehow, _somehow_, this was going to work out. He would fight to his last breath for his friends. And Adrian. My love. Who loved me so much that he'd risked his life for me over and over, and who I loved so much that I'd done the impossible for him. I would do the impossible for any of these people, who were now closer to me than anyone in my family. They were what remained, when all else was gone.

But weren't all things possible with love?

And why was the dove glowing? Curious, I tapped the athame against it gently, and both the knife and the pendant glowed even brighter for a moment. But I had no idea what that meant.

I reviewed the facts. Maeve had made the necklace from a pine cone from my forest, a place that essentially didn't exist. Then she'd blessed it somehow. My friend, the witch, had also blessed the athame so that it could cut through a Strigoi like butter.

"This might help you cut through some things," Maeve had said, when she'd given me the athame. Had she been talking about the Strigoi, or something else?

I held the athame in my hand, then looked at the wall. Was there a way that I could use the athame to cut through the wall so we could get out of here? That was impossible, of course – we were two levels down, and if I cut through that wall, I would find only solid earth. But... what if I didn't?

"To a well-organized mind," I whispered, recalling Ms. Terwiliger's words, "it's just a matter of geometry and physics."

Acting on an instinct I couldn't begin to explain, I took the athame and scraped it against the concrete wall. It left a dull little line behind it. I got to my feet and kept scraping, moving more quickly, sketching out a large rectangular outline, then adding a small circle. A door, complete with a knob. I put the athame back in its pouch, closed my eyes, and put one hand on the circle, and rested the other hand on my little wooden dove.

I knew where I wanted this door to take us. Someplace that would keep us safe not only from Strigoi and HQ guards, but also from the human authorities who, even now, were likely setting up road blocks at intervals along every road for hundreds of miles. This door was going to lead us to safety, somehow. It had to, or my friends and I would die.

"Geometry and physics," I said. "And a little bit of magic."

And then the circle under my palm was a doorknob.

I opened my eyes to see a wooden door in a wall that had, moments before, been solid concrete. At some level, I felt no surprise at this – it was what I had wanted to see so badly that it almost would have been strange _not_ to see it.

I tried turning the knob and it stubbornly refused to turn, as if it were locked. I bent down to examine the knob and saw a small indent, like an oddly shaped keyhole. I moved the dove close to the lock and realized that the head of the bird fit perfectly in the indent. It was awkward to press the little wooden bird into the keyhole while I still wore it around my neck, but after a moment, I managed it. The knob turned in my hand and I let out a little yelp of surprise.

"You ok, Sage?" Adrian called, not looking behind him. I heard a few gunshots and a yelp of pain from a guard.

"I'm fine," I said, staring at the doorknob. "Um, you?"

"Holding down the fort," he said. "Is Eddie awake yet?"

I glanced over at my friend. "Not yet," I said.

"Well, keep your eye on him," Adrian said, and then I heard a few more gunshots.

"Will do," I said.

I gave a small, silent prayer of thanks and hope, and then, gathering all my strength, pulled hard on the door. It moved slightly, allowing a small patch of light to shine from the open edge.

"Please," I whispered. "Oh, please."

I pulled on the door harder, and the patch widened, sending a beam of light across the dark floor like the beam from a laser pointer. The light touched the leg of a Strigoi, and fire burst out where the light touched it. The monster fell to the floor, screeching.

"What's going on?" Adrian asked, glancing behind him for a second. I couldn't see his face clearly, but I could hear the excitement and surprise in his voice as he said, "Holy shit, Sydney, what is _that_?"

"You unlock this door with the key of imagination," I said, and then, impossibly, I laughed. "Adrian, it turns out I may have had a few more tricks up my sleeve."

Jill, who had been busy shooting the feet of HQ guards who were coming too close to us, whipped her head around to look quickly at the source of the light. "Oh my fucking god," she said. "Oh my fucking god oh my fucking god..."

"Ease off the blasphemy, would you?" I said, still pulling at the door.

"Yeah, sure," Jill said. "But what is _that_? Is the Vigil making me hallucinate or whatever?"

"If it is, then we're all hallucinating," Adrian said. "Because I see it too."

"But what _is_ it?" Jill insisted.

"It's the way out," I said, still trying to pull the door open. It gave another inch or so, and the beam of light widened.

"But..." she said, and stopped, using her magic to send a water-cannonball at a Strigoi that was getting too close to us. The Strigoi was knocked off its feet, landing in the patch of light, where it immediately caught fire. Screaming, it rolled away into a puddle of water.

"Stay out of that light," it said. "I don't know what it is, but it burns like hell."

"It's sunlight, you idiot," one of the other Strigoi said. "Now that we've Awoken, we can't go out in the sun. Did you forget that part?"

"Did you forget we're in the second sub-basement?" the burned Strigoi said. "There's no sunlight down here."

Jill and Adrian were backing up slowly, trying to get closer to the light, and Jill let out a little bit of startled surprise when the light touched her. "It _is_ sunlight," she said. "I never thought I'd be so glad to feel sunlight on me."

"Hey," said the second Strigoi, grabbing a guard by the arm. "Is this thing built on the side of a hill? Is that sunlight?"

"It's dark out," said the guard, trying to use his flamethrower on the Strigoi, but the monster grabbed the piece of equipment and broke it in half.

"Then what's that light?" the Strigoi asked. "Tell me what the fuck that is or I'll kill you slowly instead of fast."

"I don't know," the guard said. I couldn't see his face in the dim light, especially since I was concentrating on trying to get the door open, but his voice cracked a little on the words, and I could tell he was as unnerved by the sunlight as the Strigoi were.

"It's a trick," said another one of guards. "There's no door there. They're probably shining a flashlight or something."

"But it looks like a door," said the first guard. "It looks –" But his last words were cut off as a Strigoi snapped his neck.

"No one's going through any doors," said the Strigoi who'd finished the guard. "This ends here."

"Want to bet on that?" I whispered to myself. Then, with a final yank, I managed to pull the door open enough that we could fit through it. I could see now what was on the other side of the door – light pink sky, deep blue ocean, and the smell of the sea, and of warm growing things. I had seen photographs of this place in Maeve's atlas, but it was so much more beautiful than I'd thought it would be.

"Jill," I said. "Can you put your shield up for just a few more minutes?"

"Yes," Jill said. She sounded exhilarated. "Hell yes." And again the water shield went up, looking stronger than it had all night.

"Adrian," I said. "Take Eddie and go through, ok? I have to hold the door open."

"On it," Adrian said, bending down to pick up our friend and carry him to the edge of the door. Then he paused by the door and stuck his own arm through. "This is weird," he said, looking at his arm, and I looked down as well. Adrian's arm seemed to emerge on the other side of the door in not quite the same place it went through on our side. It was kind of like looking at your hand when you put it into water. Because of refraction, your arm seemed broken into two pieces. He pulled his arm out, put it back in, and pulled it out again. "Well, I did the hokey-pokey," he said. "And my arm seems ok..."

"Go through," I said. "I don't know how long I can keep this open."

"This is the weirdest dream I ever had," Adrian said, and stepped through the door. There seemed to be a second or two's delay before he appeared on the other side, but then... there he was. "I'm ok," he said, and lowered Eddie to the ground. "Wow, Sydney, this is a nice place." His voice seemed to be coming from someplace else completely – like hearing a voice from a television or something as opposed to real life.

"Jill," I said, throwing my weight into keeping the door open. I was starting to feel extremely tired. "Come on!"

"Coming," she said, walking backwards so she could keep her shield up.

"Hurry," I said. "Hurry, please."

"Head toward the light," Adrian said, from the other side of the door.

"But what is it?" Jill asked. "Is it safe?"

"It's better than here," I said. "Come on."

"What are they doing?" asked one of the HQ guards, as Jill continued to walk slowly back to the door. The fighting had stopped as everyone stood still to watch us.

Then there was a terrible noise and a shower of dust. The ceiling had started to collapse in earnest, and I could see flames at the end of one of the hallways.

"Holy shit, the building's on fire!" said one of the guards.

"Oh, now you notice!" Jill said. "You guys are idiots, you know that?"

"Everyone, _that_ way!" shouted another guard, pointing to the door. "We've got to get out of here!"

"No way," shouted a third. "It's just some sort of Moroi trick."

The door was starting to weigh more and more each second.

"Jill!" I shouted. "Now!"

Jill dropped the water shield and ran the last few steps to the door, disappearing through it and reappearing on the other side. Then I ducked through the door myself.

For a second, I was... somewhere familiar. Somewhere I knew. Someplace quiet and safe and very old... And then I was through the door, in the bright sunlight, with the smell of the sea in my nose. I let the door close behind me, and it disappeared.

"Well," I said, looking at the scenery, which was growing darker by the second. "That's a thing that happened."

And then everything faded to black completely.

* * *

><p>"Hey, sweetheart," said a familiar voice. "You did great, you know. You really did."<p>

I was swimming up through unconsciousness, toward the voice.

"I think she's waking up," said another voice, a female voice. "Hey, Sydney! Wake up, sweetie!"

"You did really good, Chief," said a third voice, this one male. "I wish I'd been awake to see it. But I only woke up a minute ago, myself."

I opened my eyes. My head was in Adrian's lap, and Adrian, Jill, and Eddie were looking down at me. Adrian helped me sit up and prop myself against a rocky cliff wall, then moved out of the way so I could see the view.

We were outside, in the shade of a rocky outcrop, at the top of a promontory overlooking a crystal blue sea. The sky was still stained pink, so I couldn't have been unconscious for very long. The air was warm compared to the damp basement, but we were being cooled by the strong winds that yanked at our hair and clothing. The slopes of the hill were covered with yellow and red flowers dotting pale green shrubs. A path led down the hill toward a long sandy beach, and alongside the beach was a line of low buildings – a small village, by the looks of it. And rising up behind the town was an old looking mountain range, cut through by a massive gorge, and dotted here and there by towns that clung to the cliffs like tenacious old trees.

"I did it," I said, in a creaky voice. "I got us here."

"You sure did, Sage," Adrian said. He was sitting to my left, his arm around me."So, where _is_ here?"

I started to answer, but then I began to cough. Jill, who had sat down to my right, handed me a full water bottle, and I sipped at it gratefully.

"One thing I'm confused about," Jill said, while I drank.

"One thing?" Adrian said.

Jill smiled. "Lots of things," she said. "But one thing in particular, is, like, didn't you guys say that the sun had set? But it's still the sunset." She gestured at the pink-streaked sky.

"That's not the sunset," I said. "That's the sunrise."

"Oh," Jill said, sitting back on her heels. "Wow. Ok."

"We've traveled ten time zones," I said. "So I guess it's about 6 am here."

"And where is here?" Eddie asked. He was on Jill's other side.

"We're on the south coast of Crete," I said.

"_Crete_?" Eddie repeated. "As in the Greek island?"

"As in the very large Greek island," I said. "It's160 miles long by 30 miles wide, so it's about two and half times the size of the state of Rhode Island."

"You know what else is about two and half times the size of Rhode Island?" Adrian said, and I hit him gently on the arm. He laughed.

"Anyway," I said. "It's situated about 150 or 200 miles north of the shores of Africa. I was aiming for the south coast of the island, so that body of water down there is most likely the Libyan Sea, not the Aegean."

"Oh," Eddie said. "Sure."

"We're... near Africa?" Jill said faintly.

"We're really fucking far away from the Strigoi, and the guards, and the fire," Adrian said. "I don't hear cheering, guys. Where's the cheering?"

"I'm cheering," Jill said. "Believe me, I'm cheering." She put her arm around me and gave me a kiss on the cheek. "You're a pretty awesome person to know, Sydney Sage."

"Thanks," I said, uncomfortably. "Um, I'm glad I could help us."

"But why Crete?" Eddie said. "I mean, how? I mean... what?"

"And who and when and where," Adrian said, cheerfully. "I think that's all the question words. Well done, Castile."

"As to why Crete," I said, "there's a good answer. We needed a place that was remote, hard to access, but still generally safe, and where communication with locals would be possible – a place with no Strigoi if possible, and by extension, a place with very little, if any, alchemist activity. A sunny, touristy island is perfect for that. I also tried to think of a place with generally good resources, including water that's safe to drink, and a culture that is friendly to strangers and travelers, but distrustful of authority in general and police in specific. Finally, I needed a place where people wouldn't really notice or care about four young people traveling together. Crete meets all these criteria." No one said anything, so I concluded, "I was thinking about it back at Maeve's house, though at the time the idea of actually bringing us here was just a mental exercise. I didn't think it would _really_ work."

There was another long silence, and the wind continued to blow around us. I pulled a few strands of hair out of my mouth.

"So," Eddie said, in a calm tone. "Just to be sure I understand what happened, somehow or another you conjured up a magical door in the wall, and we went through it –"

"I carried you through it, Castile," Adrian said. "Who's the Guardian now, huh?" He laughed.

"And now we're 10,000 miles away?" Eddie concluded, ignoring Adrian's interruption.

"More like 7000 miles," I said. "And yes, that's more or less what happened."

"You should have seen it, Eddie," Jill said. "It was such a pretty door. It had little birds carved all over it."

"It did?" I said in surprise. "I didn't see that."

"Oh," Jill said. "I guess the contrast between the dark room and bright light made it hard for your eyes to see them. But they... they looked kind of like your necklace." She tapped on the wooden dove.

"So, leaving aside the fact that we just experienced some sort of miracle or something," Eddie said. "Let's look at where we are now. We're in a remote place, with only what we packed in our backpacks. We're tired and injured..."

"... and dirty," Adrian said, cheerfully. "Don't forget dirty."

"We're tired, injured, and dirty. And we're 7000 miles from where we were a few minutes ago."

"Yes," I said.

"So, basically, all we have is our wits."

"And each other," Jill said, softly, but with intensity. "What was that Bible line, Sydney? The one you liked?"

" 'These three remain,' " I said.

" 'Faith, hope, and love,' " she said.

" 'And the greatest of these is love'," Adrian said. I looked at him, surprised.

"Amen," Jill said.

Eddie looked around at our surroundings with a sudden grin. "Well, then, so say we all." He stood up, and Jill and Adrian helped me get to my feet as well. "Should we do a 'Team Melrose' on three?" Eddie asked.

Just as if we'd done it hundreds of times, we got in a circle and put our hands in the middle, stacking them on top of each other.

"One, two, three," Eddie said.

"Team Melrose!" we shouted, emboldened by the strong wind, and threw our hands in the air. Then, impossibly, we started to laugh, as we gathered into a group hug. Then we broke apart and walked over to the edge of the promontory, and looked down at the water. Adrian put his arm around me, and Jill leaned her head on Eddie's shoulder.

"Hey, what's this?" Adrian said, pulling something out of my hair. He put it in my hand and I looked at it.

It was branched pine needle, of the species _Pinus ponderosa_.

I shook my head. "I have no idea how that got there," I said.

Adrian shrugged as well. "I don't really care," he said, and kissed my cheek. "Anyway, this seems like a nice place to be. A bit heavy on the sunshine, but I can handle it after Palm Springs."

"I figure this will be a nice place to rest for a bit," I said. "And once we're ready, I think I can open another door for us and we can go back home." I put my hand into the velvet pouch to withdraw the athame again, then let out a bark of surprise.

"What's wrong?" Adrian asked.

"Maeve's athame," I whispered. "It's gone."

**END OF BOOK II**

_A/N: Next: _

**Book III – The Other Side**

_Thanks for sticking around! _


	72. EXTRA: Summary of Book II

**BONUS! Summary of Book II! **

Since I did a summary of the first book at the end of the first book, I thought I'd do a summary of the second book here. Same warning as last time – **these summaries suck a lot of the fun out of it, so I don't recommend that you read only the summaries instead of the whole story! **They're only useful for someone who has sort of forgotten the plot because it takes me so long to update sometimes, or in case you really want to find a favorite chapter/scene. Or maybe if you're scared or triggered by any of the violence and want to skim through or skip those scenes and read the summary instead.

About the chapter numbers: I'm planning to go back and re-number all the chapters at some point so that each "book" has its own chapter numbers. I'll do that when I go back and fix typos/ awkwardness/ etc, which is something else I want to do. But for right now the muse is with me and I want to keep writing new chapters. At some point I'll hit a block and that's when I'll work on revisions. In the meantime, you can always figure out which chapter I'm talking about based on the name.

**Chapter 1: The Forest and the Ax **

Sydney wakes up in "her forest" – the one that she and Adrian visit in dreams. Since she's alone and without Adrian's magic, it's difficult for her to even move, but she manages to hack a hole in a tree with an ax and get to Adrian. He tells her that Jill's been kidnapped and the Guardians are blaming her (Sydney). He also says that Eddie's had his memories modified. They decide that Sydney should wake up so that she can tell him where she is.

**Chapter 2: Cars, Calls, and Calculations**

Sydney wakes up in the trunk space of an SUV. Her hands are tied behind her back and she has a mild concussion. She assesses the other people in the car with her: a Whiner (who she later finds out is named Joe), Gold Cross, aka Gary Wheldon, (whose voice she recognizes as one of the people who kidnapped her), and the soft spoken, and dangerous, Dave, who is apparently Gary's brother. Sydney manages to figure out where they are and what kind of car they're in by listening to their conversation and listening to the engine sounds. She tells Adrian via dreams, and they decide to have him ask Julia to drive him to where she is.

**Chapter 3: The Crack Team (part 1)**

In a dream, Adrian takes Sydney to the Japanese Tea Garden in Golden Gate Park. She tells him what she's learned about her captors, and he tells her that he tried to call people at court, but that everyone he got through to thinks that Sydney is the bad guy. He also tells her that he sold a bunch of his paintings and other possessions to raise money quickly, to help him find her.

**Chapter 4: The Crack Team (part 2)**

Adrian says he's going to head toward Reno, as part of his cover story for where he's going. Adrian and Sydney joke around and throw pies at each other and stuff, and also talk about the fight they'd had and some other things. They have a snack at the cafe and Sydney is defensive about food. They figure out a way to loosen the ropes around her hands in real life.

**Chapter 5: Please Save My Life  
><strong>

Sydney overhears a few clues that the guys are saying in the car. They're headed someplace called "The Truck" and are worried about someone they call "the Creep-a-droo," and Gary and Dave's last name is Wheldon. The guys pull over to get coffee and use the restroom, and Gold Cross/Gary goes to try to molest Sydney. She attacks him and manages to get away. Sydney runs as fast as she can to a rest station a few miles away, but the guys track her down. She goes into a bathroom and is trapped there. She leaves a note in a stall asking someone to call Adrian and tell him the last name "Wheldon." The guys drag her back to the car and inject her with something, and she passes out.

**Chapter 6: Vigil (part 1)**

Sydney wakes up in a dark room, with only a beach towel for a blanket, and a toilet in the corner. The door's locked. Dave and Gary come in, along with their father, David Wheldon Sr. They tie her to the table and torture her to get her to tell them everything she knows about Rose. She tries not to betray Rose, but acts like she's cooperating. They inject her with something called Vigil, which keeps her from passing out no matter how much they hurt her. After, they give her some wound-healing compound to use, but it doesn't have anesthetic in it like it usually does. When they leave, the Vigil keeps her from being able to sleep and contact Adrian.

**Chapter 7: Vigil (part 2)**

Joe manages to sneak Sydney a version of the wound-healing compound that does have anesthetic in it. Joe and Sydney have a conversation, and he is actually sort of sympathetic to her, talking vaguely about a "friend" of his who was also an alchemist, who Sydney reminds him of. He helps her treat her wounds, but also tells her that this is an opportunity for her to forget about vampires and "get back on the right path." He tells her that he hates Moroi, because one killed his mother. Sydney realizes the "friend" Joe talked about is his mother.

**Chapter 8: Vigil (part 3)**

The Wheldons come in and tie her down again to torture her more, asking her this time about Adrian. Wheldon has sort of false information about her and seems to be under the impression that she saw Adrian in person several times a week, and Sydney wonders if Angeline might have been the one who gave Wheldon that information. They tell her that they're going to go capture Adrian in Reno, and she pretends not to care. Then they give her a huge dose of Vigil and leave.

**Chapter 9: Ghostsongs and Videoloops (part 1)**

Left alone in the dark, poisoned with Vigil, and badly hurt by the Wheldons, Sydney begins to hallucinate. First, she sees her father, who tells her that she deserves what she's going through. Then she sees Rose and Adrian, who, in Sydney's nightmare, begin kissing right in front of her. Later, Sydney hallucinates seeing Jill, who admonishes Sydney for having forgotten her. These visions are confusing and even upsetting sometimes, but whenever Sydney realizes it's only a hallucination, the "visitors" disappear, leaving her alone and despondent. Later, Sydney sees Adrian again, who offers to dance with Sydney to keep her moving through the room as a way of appeasing the Vigil. While they sing together and dance, Angeline appears and seems shocked that Sydney has been tortured. Then both Adrian and Angeline disappear, and Sydney finds a bottle of water and some candy on a chair. Finally, Ms. Terwiliger appears to give Sydney a test, and several other students, including Sydney's sisters, appear and sit in the other desks. Sydney manages to negotiate her way through these occasionally frightening visions – and then the light turns on again.

**Chapter 10: Ghostsongs and Videoloops (part 2)**

Joe comes in with a pile of snacks for Sydney. She figures out that he's the one who let Angeline in – since the Angeline she'd seen the night before wasn't a hallucination at all. Joe confesses that he made out with Angeline and that he really likes her, even though she's a dhampir. He also says that he's known her for weeks, and that the Keepers are working with his organization. He tells her that Angeline had really wanted to see Sydney, and that at some point, Angeline stole a bunch of paper files and left. Joe says that tomorrow, "the Creepadroo" is going to modify his (Joe's) memories so he doesn't like Angeline anymore, and that Sydney should be happy that she's going to have her memories changed so she doesn't like Adrian any more. He says that even though the Wheldons have "crossed the line," he's still ultimately loyal to them. He agrees, however, to set up a "video-loop" on the surveillance camera, so that Sydney can have some privacy to use the toilet twice a day.

**Chapter 11: Ghostsongs and Videoloops (part 3)**

Sydney tries to make sense of what Joe told her about Angeline, as she starts to finally fall asleep... And then is woken up again by Gary, who comes in with a gun and a needle full of Vigil. He forces her to inject herself with the Vigil, but Joe distracts Gary a little bit, enough for Sydney to spill some of the injection, before Mr. Wheldon orders Gary to get ready to go to "the elephants." Later, David Wheldon Senior and Junior come in to "question" Sydney about Angeline. They hurt Sydney really badly, burning her with cigarettes and cutting her with the boxcutter. When they leave, Sydney hallucinates Adrian coming to her to keep her company and sing to her. Then Joe comes and secretly gives Sydney the antidote to Vigil and she falls asleep.

**Chapter 12: Making Up For Lost Decembers**

Adrian finds Sydney in a spirit dream and heals some of her wounds as best he can from a distance. He brings her, in a dream, to a small cabin that had belonged to his Aunt Tatiana. There, they have a little "Christmas", complete with presents, to cheer Sydney up. Together, they figure out that the towel Sydney's been using was a secret present from Joe. Adrian tells her that someone found Sydney's note in the bathroom and called him to give him the name "Wheldon," and that he and Eddie are going to stake out the Wheldon's house in order to find Sydney. Adrian leaves Sydney in her forest while he goes to talk to Eddie.

**Chapter 13: The Other Sydney (part III)**

Alone in the dream woods, Sydney takes a shower and changes clothes. Then, after some mental goading from the Traitor, she opens a door in a tree and finds herself, asleep in her cell. She goes through the door, but not into her body. She walks through her cell, first unlocking the door, then exploring the hallway. Adrian meets up with her there, and together they walk outside and figure out the address of the building where she's being held. They decide that she can run outside at a certain time, when Adrian and Eddie will be waiting for her, and Adrian wakes up. Sydney returns to her room and looks down at herself, still asleep on the floor. She can see how thin she is and begins to feel sorry for herself – but the moment is shattered when she sees her belly, distended with Christmas food. Then she slips back into herself.

**Chapter 14: Time to Go**

With the help of the information she gleaned during her dream walk, Joe's "privacy loop," and some alchemist tricks, Sydney manages to escape from her cell. She drugs the guards and makes it as far as the stairs before she runs into Joe on the stairs, who obviously was just about to bring her some food. She's forced to fight him in order to get away, and leaves him out cold in the stairwell. She makes it to the lobby, where Adrian and Eddie are busy fighting with the HQ guards, Adrian using compulsion. They subdue the guards together, and then, as they debate whether they'll be able to find out where Jill is being held, Mr. Wheldon shows up and shoots at them. Adrian takes the bullet for Sydney, and Eddie is shot as well. With the last of Adrian's energy, he tells Wheldon to go to sleep, and the man falls to the ground. "Love you, Syd-" Adrian says, and falls limp in Sydney's arms.

**Chapter 15: Love is Stronger than Death**

Eddie freaks out as he realizes that Wheldon is dead from the fall, while Sydney frantically tries to get Adrian to the car so that they can get him help. She manages to get Eddie to leave, and they get in the car, with Eddie driving and Sydney in the backseat with Adrian. She tries to use alchemy to help him, but he's too badly hurt. She tells him that she loves him for the first time, and he smiles, but his heart stops beating. In desperation, she accesses his spirit magic, and uses it to bring him back from the edge of death, marveling at how beautiful his power is. He wakes up.

**Chapter 16: I Do, Don't You?  
><strong>

Eddie drives as fast as he can to help them escape the HQ guys and the police, while Sydney tends to Adrian. They quickly change cars, and Sydney tends to Eddie's wounds. Eddie asks Sydney how she did what she did, but she doesn't really have an answer. They get into the new car and drive away. As they drive, Sydney goes through the stuff that Eddie and Adrian brought her, including a soft red sweater and some charmed disguise rings. Adrian sort of tricks Sydney into saying the phrase "I do" right before he puts the ring on her finger.

**Chapter 17: Travel Tensions (part 1)**

Eddie explains that they're going to a "place I heard of once", that they can't risk a hotel because everyone from the alchemists to the police are looking for them, especially Sydney. Eddie tells Sydney that his memories have been altered, and that in fact he still has memories of her betraying them, even though he knows they're false. She questions him to see if he shows signs of having been given Gullinol, an alchemist compound used to help change people's memories, but he doesn't. Sydney thinks she sees Caliban (the name she gave to the Jeep Cherokee that she was abducted in) behind them, and starts to have a panic attack. Eddie and Adrian help her calm down. Then Sydney tends to Adrian, who is still very weak from his injuries.

**Chapter 18: Travel Tensions (part 2)**

After driving for about four hours, the three of them ditch the car near a hiking path, and then spend the next few hours trying to get themselves and an increasingly weak Adrian to their destination. Eddie ends up traveling parts of the trail several times in order to bring both their gear and their injured friend along the path. Finally, they reach the house: a cute wooden A-frame house, painted every color of the rainbow. Eddie explains that the house is owned by people who like to take in "through-hikers", ie, people who hike the entire length of the Pacific Crest Trail without stopping. He says that if they pose as through-hikers, they might be able to get safe, free accommodation for a day or two. They knock on the door...

**Chapter 19: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 1)**

A purple-haired girl named Maeve answers the door. She talks to them for a while and gives them zucchini bread, and tells them she likes them. She gives them snacks and some wine, and they talk for a while and meet her sort-of pet bird, Zule a Steller's jay who likes to hang around on Maeve's porch. They tell Maeve that Adrian isn't feeling well, and Maeve gives Sydney and Adrian a room in the attic to sleep in, so Adrian goes to sleep. Sydney is feeling oddly irritable and snappy and doesn't know why. Then she and Adrian lie down for a nap together.

**Chapter 20: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 2)**

Maeve comes up to the attic to wake Sydney and Adrian for dinner, and sees a pine-cone on the floor, one that Sydney had brought to the real world from her dream forest. Maeve is fascinated by the pine-cone, and Sydney gives it to her as a gift. Dinner is served, featuring food grown primarily on premises, including eggs from Maeve's pet ducks. Maeve tells them she makes a living writing term-papers for rich kids, and that her boyfriend, who is away at the moment, is a DJ. She also tells them she's a Wiccan. After Adrian goes to bed, Sydney and Eddie hang out with Maeve some more, all drinking wine, and Maeve plays them the piano and then Eddie plays the guitar. Sydney slips something in Eddie's wine to get him to go to sleep so that he'll get enough rest for once. Once he goes to bed, Maeve and Sydney sit up a while longer talking outside on the porch swing. Maeve is a Wiccan and seems to sense that Sydney has developed an eating disorder.

**Chapter 21: Chez Gothic Retreat (part 3)**

In the kitchen, Sydney begins to freak out when she thinks she sees blood everywhere. Maeve comforts her without judgment, and once Sydney is calm again, Maeve encourages her to eat, noting that Sydney is very thin. Sydney cuddles with Maeve's enormous black cat, Max, and begins to feel better, and then she goes to bed. She cuddles up with Adrian and falls asleep, and dreams she's back in her cell, with Wheldon about to torture her again. Adrian wakes her up from the nightmare and tries to comfort her, but even once she's awake, Sydney begins to rant incoherently. Recognizing spirit darkness in her, Adrian cures her. They banter for a while and then go back to sleep.

**Chapter 22: Getting Better, Getting Worse**

Sydney has another nightmare during the night, but by morning she feels a little better. Adrian, however, is pale and cold. Sydney cuddles with him, trying to keep him warm, and they talk about the dream he had, that they were married with two little girls. Adrian says he couldn't reach Jill by spirit. They go downstairs and find out that Maeve is out running errands. They have breakfast with Eddie, and Adrian says that he's fine to leave that day – even though he can barely walk. But they decide that since Adrian is still so weak and since they don't have any idea on where Jill is, and can't count on anyone back at Court, they should stay for another day or two and possibly do some internet research to find Jill. They have to wait for Maeve to come home to use her computer, so they spend the time by gardening (Eddie), resting/using spirit dreams (Adrian), and reading Maeve's atlas (Sydney). Adrian wakes up, upset, saying that he'd found Lissa, but that she'd had her memories altered.

**Chapter 23: The Wooden Dove**

Maeve comes back and reveals that she used to suffer from an eating disorder. She notices that Adrian isn't doing well. She offers to give Eddie a ride to town to get Adrian "medicine" (blood), because she (Maeve) is going to go pick up her boyfriend, Tony, at the airport. Adrian tells Syd and Eddie that Lissa's aura, in the dream, had had streaks of silver in it, then notices that Eddie has the streaks of silver in his aura too. They take Adrian upstairs so he can rest. Eddie admonishes Adrian and Sydney for apparently not caring enough about Jill, and Adrian passionately argues that though he is deeply worried about Jill, he's going to enjoy his days as best he can, since any of them might die as they try to rescue Jill. Eddie apologizes. Maeve gives Sydney a gift: a necklace shaped like a little dove, made from the pine cone that Sydney had given her. Sydney does some research on the nearest blood donation facility, and Eddie and Maeve use Maeve's zipline to get to her car more quickly. Max the cat stays with Adrian to help keep him warm. Sydney does some research on Joe and finds out that she's not related to his mother, but just looks a little like her. She also finds out that the HQ donated a lot of money to elephant seal rescue. Sydney does a lot of thinking about Adrian, confusing herself a little, then lies down with Adrian for a while and has a weird dream...

**Chapter 24: Delicious Darkness**

Waking up from the confusing dream, Sydney finds that Adrian has gotten even worse over the last few hours. There isn't really anything physically wrong with him except that he desperately needs blood. Finally, Sydney realizes that she can give Adrian her own blood without compromising her integrity. She has to convince Adrian that she's really ok with it, and then he bites her – and of course she enjoys it. They banter and flirt a bit and then fall asleep.

**Chapter 25: Even in a Dream**

Sydney and Adrian meet in her dream forest and talk a little before deciding to try to work together to contact Jill – but they can't find her. They look for Eddie – can't find him. They debate who at court might be worth finding, and decide that there's no one they can trust. Finally they decide to find Gary Wheldon to question him. They do so, and find him high on marijuana. They manage to convince him that it's just a dream and Sydney gently questions him, getting him to talk about the elephant seals and "the plan." Gary references the "things in the basement" and how few of "them" have "gone over." Gary says he himself is nervous and scared and plans to hide out in a bunker with flame-throwers. Sydney and Adrian wake up. Back in the attic, Sydney tells Adrian that she's pretty sure she's figured out where Jill is and what "the plan" is.

**Chapter 26: Wide Awake at 3 AM**

Sydney and Adrian get up and go down to Maeve's office to do some research on the computer. It's 3 am and Eddie still isn't back yet, though Maeve is back now and they can hear someone else – Tony – in her room. Sydney explains that Jill is likely near an elephant seal preserve in Big Sur (the place that Mr. Wheldon called "the elephants"), and that the plan is to starve Moroi of blood until they get so hungry they drain someone completely and turn Strigoi – though neither she nor Adrian can understand why this would be the goal. They see Maeve's altar and Maeve's sacred knife, called an athame, and Adrian notices that it's made of pure silver. Sydney hacks into a live satellite feed so that they can find the HQ compound near Big Sur. Sydney starts to feel anxious in the small room, so Adrian takes her outside to make her feel better. They go to sleep to find Eddie in a spirit dream, and he tells them that he got caught by the police when he tried to steal blood for Adrian, but then he got away again. They decide to meet up at the rest station in the small town of Gold Run, nearby. Then they wake up again. Back upstairs in the attic room, Sydney and Adrian make love before falling asleep again.

**Chapter 27: Feeling Good, Accidentally**

Sydney wakes up, happy. Adrian brings her a snack in bed – strawberries – and they end up having sex again. Sydney explains that she just feels happy because of him. Then they go downstairs to finish their research and have breakfast.

**Chapter 28: Spinning**

Sydney has not only found the HQ compound, she has also found blueprints for the building. She prints out several copies, along with suggested routes/itineraries to get there. They go outside to the porch to have some coffee and zucchini bread, and Zule, the friendly little blue-jay, comes begging for crumbs. The bird lands on Adrian's arm, and Adrian can't resist healing the bird's injured leg. Soon after, a man comes outside, and they realize that this is Tony, Maeve's boyfriend. Adrian soon realizes that Tony is a dhampir. They have a friendly conversation with him. Maeve comes outside and is surprised to see that Adrian is better, even though Eddie isn't back yet. Sydney doesn't want to eat, then Adrian looks her in the eyes for a moment and mysteriously, a few moments later, she's hungry again! The four of them have breakfast together, and it's obvious that Maeve isn't at all fooled by their "cover story" of being hikers, but doesn't really care. Maeve notices that Zule's leg is healed. They hear a horrible sound, and find out that Max the cat has just been attacked by some animal. Tony wants to bring Max to a vet, but Maeve is convinced that Max won't live long enough, and wants to just hold the cat while it dies. Touched by Maeve's overwhelming grief, Adrian heals the cat. Maeve is delighted and doesn't seem to mind that Adrian must have some sort of strange powers, but Tony gets angry and demands to know who they are and who sent them.

**Chapter 29: Tandem Flight**

They have a tense standoff with Tony. It turns out that Tony's father, a Moroi, mistreated Tony's mother, a human. The Moroi treated his mother like a blood whore, and made her a junkie for the bite. He also ignored Tony until he needed another guardian, which Tony refused to be. As a result, Tony hates the entire Moroi world, and assumes that Adrian and Sydney are agents for his father. Maeve tries to calm him, but ultimately it's Sydney who explains things enough for Tony to relax. Maeve cheerfully decides to give Sydney and Adrian a bunch of snacks and drive them to Gold Run, as payment for healing Max. Maeve and Sydney talk and Maeve mentions that she knows Ms. Terwiliger, and that she knew that Sydney, Eddie, and Adrian might be coming by. She also knows that Tony is a dhampir. Sydney and Adrian pack to go, feeling sad to leave Maeve, who they've grown to really like. Maeve gives Sydney one more present, something in a blue velvet bag, saying that it might help Sydney "cut through some of her doubt and confusion." They all take the zipline to the ranger station, though Maeve and Sydney have to zip together (on a tandem zip) because Sydney doesn't weigh enough due to her ongoing eating disorder.

**Chapter 30: All Kinds of Thievery**

Maeve drives Sydney and Adrian to meet Eddie in Gold Run. They all say a sad goodbye to Maeve. Then they hotwire a car by jamming a screwdriver into the steering column. They realize that Eddie stole a bunch of money and snacks from a vending machine. They go to a feeder, a bored rich girl. While Adrian is feeding, Sydney and Adrian siphon gas from the girl's parents' cars and put it into their own (stolen) car. Sydney also removes the broken handcuffs from Eddie's wrists.

**Chapter 31: The Point of the Gun**

The three drive down to San Simeon. They try to drive at a normal speed so that they don't get pulled over. Sydney asks Eddie to drive, because she thinks she's seeing things, including Caliban (the Wheldons' car) and a weird speck in the sky that seems to appear and disappear. They steal some guns and ammunition from an illegal arms dealer, and Sydney constructs alchemist-technology silencers. They talk for a bit about the ethics of what they're doing. And then they get pulled over by a police car. The cops announce that they have them at gunpoint, and the small black thing descends from the sky...

**Chapter 32: What Kind of Monsters?**

The three friends decide to be extremely cautious around the cops, because cops have guns and are trained to shoot to kill. They get out of the car with their hands up. The police officers are Levertov, a somewhat older cop, and Bishop, a rookie who really wants to get his first "collar." Adrian gives Sydney a disguise ring that makes her look pregnant to make it less likely she gets shot, and he and Eddie put on their own disguise rings. Adrian also uses compulsion to get Levertov not to frisk Eddie or Sydney too closely (Eddie and Sydney both have guns). It turns out that a traffic camera saw Eddie, and facial recognition software linked him to the blood donation center theft/fight, as well as all the other stuff the alchemists put into Eddie's file. But they don't recognize Eddie now, and so the cops are considering just letting them go – once they run their ID cards. Their ID cards are fake, of course. Adrian has to tell Levertov to sleep, and they end up in a stand-off with Bishop, who is highly resistant to compulsion. It turns out that the thing that Sydney's been seeing in the sky all day is Zule, Maeve's "pet" bird. Zule can imitate noises, and at the last second, he "laughs", distracting Bishop long enough for Eddie to take Bishop down. Bishop has shot Zule, and Adrian brings it back to life. They shoot out Bishop's tires and radio. Bishop figures out that they're not at all ordinary people, and asks to come with them to kill monsters. They tell him that he can't, and they end up wishing each other luck as the three friends drive away at top speed, with Zule in the car with them.

**Chapter 33: The Alarm Bell**

Sydney and co. drive down the highway at 90 mph. When Adrian says he hears sirens behind them, Sydney puts the car in a ditch near a tall noise wall. Eddie is able to scale the wall and helps Sydney and Adrian over it as well. The cops go by, not noticing the car in the ditch at first, and the friends are able to get away. They're in the suburbs, and talk to a woman who says her husband is stuck in traffic due to a series of roadblocks. They steal another car, and sneak through the roadblock. They reach the turn-off for the HQ compound, and Adrian orders little Zule to fly home to Maeve. Then they approach the compound – and realize that an alarm bell is already ringing there.

**Chapter 34: Hungry**

They go inside the HQ compound. All the power is out, and the alarm is blaring, and there's no one around except a dead body. They run into Jesse Zeklos, who has turned into a Stirgoi, and Eddie stakes him. They also meet a Moroi, drinking the blood from a dead HQ guard. This Moroi, Roger, is apologetic and scared and extremely hungry. Sydney gives him the keys to a car, keys that she'd found on a dead guard, and tells him to go to the car and wait for a few minutes for any more survivors they find, and to go when the sun sets. The three friends go downstairs, and on the way down, meet a teenaged Moroi girl and send her upstairs to get in the car with Roger. They keep going and find that water pipes have been pulled from the walls and ceiling, which makes them hopeful that Jill is alive and using her water magic. This basement level is shaped like a large square and they walk around it in a loop, looking for Jill. Sydney can't see in the dark, so Adrian has to hold her hand and lead her, and she can't use her gun, and all this makes her feel useless. They find a bunch of dead bodies and run into a few more Strigoi, and Eddie stakes them, with some help from Adrian, who shoots out their eyes. They meet a middle-aged Moroi man, and take him with them for a while until the Moroi attacks Sydney during a fight with some Strigoi and tries to drink from her. Sydney throws him to the ground, and then Adrian tells him to run. Then they go down to the second sub-basement, the last place they have to look for Jill.

**Chapter 35: The Voice From Behind the Pipes**

The three friends walk around the second sub-basement, still looking for Jill. There are more downed pipes here, more water, and they feel like they're getting closer. They had been seeing a lot of broken flame-throwers around the building, and manage to find a complete one, which they give to Sydney to hold. They find a room that has a pile of pipes blocking the door, and that has water blasting out from the door to hit a group of Strigoi trying to get in. The friends fight with the Strigoi, and Sydney gets a chance to use her flame-thrower against one Strigoi that was biting Adrian. Finally, they get to Jill, who is overjoyed to find out that Adrian is alive. The bond broke when Adrian almost died and Jill thought Adrian was dead. Jill is also glad to find out that Sydney is still loyal to her, since the HQ told her that Sydney hated her. Jill has been drinking the blood from a dead HQ guard, but dead blood isn't quite enough to help her. She needs fresh blood, after all the magic she's been using. Eddie offers his blood, and Jill is reluctant to take it until Eddie confesses his love for her. Once she drinks from him, he's left goofy and weak. And that's when a Strigoi comes into the room and quickly grabs Sydney by the neck. The Strigoi is David Wheldon, Junior.

**Chapter 36: The War of the Birds and the Beasts**

Sydney manages to stake and kill the Strigoi using the gift that Maeve had given her: Maeve's charmed ritual knife, or athame. She finishes the monster off with the flame-thrower and then retrieves the athame, which is still cool to the touch. She and Adrian heal Eddie with a combination of alchemist-technology and Spirit magic, and then the four friends set out to escape. But soon they end up in a literal corner of the building, with a large group – about 50 – human HQ guards attacking from one direction, and a group of 11 Strigoi attacking from the other direction. Sydney figures out, with the help of Adrian's and Jill's enhanced senses, that the HQ guards are all on Vigil, and that Jill has ingested some Vigil via the blood of the dead HQ guard. Since the guards are all on high doses of Vigil, they're sort of lost to common sense. A huge fight breaks out, and they hide behind Jill's water shield as much as they can. Soon they realize that the building is on fire – most likely because an HQ agent set the building on fire to contain the Strigoi, not caring that it meant sacrificing so many HQ lives. Then Eddie gets knocked unconscious, and the friends are left in the corner, without their best fighter, facing so many dangers... What now?

**Chapter 37: The Light from the Door**

Sydney, inspired by Jill's hopeful nature and Adrian's love, notices the that bird necklace and the athame that Maeve gave her are both glowing faintly in the dark. While Jill and Adrian guard her and Eddie, Sydney remembers the conversation she'd had with Ms. Terwiliger about "somatic projection," and has an epiphany. She draws a door on the wall with the tip of the athame, and the door becomes real. She unlocks it with the bird pendant, and it opens, sending a beam of sunlight across the floor. The friends go through the door, bringing the unconscious Eddie with them. Sydney passes out for a moment, but soon wakes up. They're now on the Greek island of Crete, and the sun is rising over the beautiful, sparkling sea. Eddie is awake again, and they're all ok. But Sydney realizes that the athame is gone.


	73. III: Pastries and Flowers

**Book III: The Other Side**

**Chapter 1: Pastries and Flowers  
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"The athame is gone?" Jill said, moving away from the edge of the cliff, back into the shade of the outcropping. Though it was still very early morning here, the sun was already strong.

"The athame?" Eddie repeated, following Jill into the shade. "That's the knife thing Maeve gave you, right? The one that you used to stake the Strigoi?"

"Yes," I said, as we all sat back down in a loose circle in the shade. "And it's also what I used to create the door. So... with it gone, I can't get us back home after all." I looked down at the ground, and Adrian gave me a comforting squeeze.

"Well," Eddie said. "Hmm. I guess we'll have to find another way home, then."

"I guess," I said, tracing a pattern in the fine red dirt with my fingertip. "I... I'm sorry, guys. It was right there in the pouch, and then it just wasn't."

"Sydney," Jill said, and I looked up at her. She was smiling. "It's fine. You saved all our lives. I would a million, billion, _trillion_ times rather be stuck here in this beautiful place than... you know... where we were. I mean, _obviously_ I would and so would all of us, so don't worry, OK?"

"Seriously," Adrian said, and kissed my temple. "We'll figure something out."

"Right," I said, nodding.

I must not have sounded that convincing, though, because Eddie spoke up next. "It's no big deal, Chief," he said. "Maybe that thing was... single use only. Maybe Maeve gave it to you on loan or something. Anyway, sure, it's rough that we're stuck 7000 miles from home, but like Jill says, it beats the alternative. So don't worry, OK?"

I returned his smile. "OK," I said, then rested my head on Adrian's shoulder.

"Hey, are you feeling alright?" Adrian asked. "We were all pretty worried when you passed out before."

"Yeah," Jill said. "We should have already asked about that but like I guess we got kind of distracted because we wondered where we were, and we thought you might know, so we asked you about that instead, but now you have to tell us if you're OK, and if you want to lie down or maybe someone can bring you something or... something."

I laughed. "I'm fine," I said. "I'm just really tired. I guess using Maeve's magic really took it out of me."

Jill and Adrian exchanged glances.

"What?" I demanded. "What was that look?"

"Just that we knew you were going to do that," Jill said. "That you'd say it was that other girl's magic, and not yours."

"It was her athame that did it," I said. "And I don't want to talk about it."

There was a short silence, and then Adrian said, "Windy, isn't it? Glad I quit smoking. It'd be impossible to light up here." He grinned at me.

I smiled back. "I'm glad too," I said. "Anyway, we should probably get moving, find some shelter. The sun is getting stronger every minute."

"Yes, but what kind of shelter?" Eddie asked. "Should we try to find an isolated spot and make a lean-to or something?"

"We could," Adrian said, dryly, "or we could just go to that town down there and get a couple of hotel rooms." He pointed at the town visible in the distance, maybe a fifteen or twenty minute walk from where we were.

"Can we afford a hotel?" Jill asked.

"Well, I've still got _this_," Adrian said, and pulled a huge wad of money from his pocket.

"What?" Jill squeaked. "Holy shit, Adrian!"

"Plus, we have the money we found on those guys back there," Adrian added. "Let's count that, see how much we have."

Eddie, Adrian and I pooled the money we'd found on various dead HQ guards and I counted it quickly, careful not to let the wind yank any of the money out of my hands.

"Well, including Adrian's money, we've got almost four thousand," I said. "We picked up almost a thousand off those guards."

"Just as well," Adrian said. "It would have burned up in the fire and done no one any good."

"True," I said, but I still felt a little unsettled by the theft. It was something I'd have to talk over with my conscience when this was all over. "In any case, I don't think it will be enough to get us back to the States, not by airplane anyway. But it will be enough to cover any reasonable expenses for quite some time, especially with Adrian's compulsion helping us out here and there."

"Where did you get all that money, Adrian?" Jill asked, staring at the pile of bills in fascination.

"I sold some of my paintings," he replied, with studied calm.

"Oh, wow!" she replied. "Someone bought your paintings for that much? That's amazing, I'm so happy for you!" She threw an arm around him in a sort of side-hug, and he laughed and hugged her back.

"Thanks, JB," he said, as they pulled apart. "I appreciate it. Anyway, we don't have ducats or lira or whatever they use here, but _someone_ will accept dollars. Especially with some convincing on my part."

"They use the Euro here, as I'm sure you know," I said patiently. "And I'm pretty sure that there'll be somewhere to change money. So, what do you guys want to do first? Like I said, we're going to need shelter from the sun and the heat, so my vote is to go to that town and find a hotel room."

"I could go for some food first thing," Jill said. "Is there any left?"

Eddie, Adrian and I dug through our bags and found a few last pieces of zucchini bread, some dried apples, two small packages of orange juice, and four apple muffins. We divvied it all up fairly and dug in, and since I hadn't eaten since lunch, I figured it was fine to have a little something. Plus, Maeve's food was almost addictively good.

"This is amazing," Jill said, her mouth full of zucchini bread. "I hope I get to meet this girl someday."

"I hope so too," Eddie said. "She told us that we could come back anytime. She wanted to meet you."

"You told her about me?" Jill asked, surprised.

"She could tell that we were anxious and sad about something," I explained. "So we told her that we were worried about our friend. We didn't tell her your name or anything, just that... we missed you."

"We made up fake names," Adrian said. "She didn't like my fake name, and I couldn't remember what it was anyway, so she called me Pumpkin instead."

Jill laughed. "I'm going to start calling you that, too," she said. "Or maybe I'll call you Pumpkin Pie." Her stomach rumbled, and she laughed again. "OK, obviously, I'm still hungry. Anyone else?"

"Starved," Adrian said. "I think going through that door kind of took it out of all of us. What do you think?" He looked at me and Eddie.

"I think I could use some nutrition," I said. "Certainly."

"I could eat several large horses," Eddie said. "But... Is it safe to be seen? What if there are already people looking for us?"

"We have those rings I made," Adrian said. "Though I'd have to re-do Sydney's."

I had been storing my ring in my pocket since we'd escaped from Officers Bishop and Levertov, as I had no particular wish to be perceived as pregnant. I pulled the ring out of my pocket and handed it over to Adrian. He examined it and let out a startled exclamation. "What?" I asked.

"Power's all gone from it," he said. "Eddie? Do you have yours and Jill's?" Eddie handed over both rings, and Adrian groaned in frustration. "I'll have to start from scratch on all of these," he said. "Maybe going through that door used up all the magic in 'em."

"I think we'll be safe without them," I said. "I mean, it's a safe place in general – this area has a very low crime rate. And more importantly, no one who's looking for us will be able to guess that we've left the country, much less where exactly we've gone."

Eddie nodded. "You're right, Syd. Secret magic doors might be the one method of travel that even the alchemists can't monitor. And I bet the HQ people are probably going to assume that we're dead in that fire, unless someone managed to get out of there and tell someone that we escaped."

I shrugged. "When we left, I think there were only about 10 or 12 human guards still alive, and that's when the ceiling started to collapse. We were two floors down, in a corner about 200 meters from the nearest stairway. I doubt that anyone who saw us go through the door managed to get out of there to tell the tale."

"Also," Jill put in, "I bet that, like, if anyone went around telling people about a magic door in a wall that like, sunshine was shining through at nighttime in a basement, like, anyone would think they were just crazy or seeing things or something."

I nodded. "So, in order for the story to be believable, there would have to be at least two survivors, both of whom willing and able to talk about what they'd seen."

Eddie let out a thoughtful sigh. "I hope that we're right about this," he said. "For all we know, the enemy is just sending our photographs everywhere anyway, just in case."

"All the way to Crete?" I said. "I doubt it. I've known the alchemists my whole life. They wouldn't waste resources like that. They probably know all about the police stopping us near Big Sur, and they're probably tightening their drag net in that area of California. And even if somehow or another they do figure out somehow where we've gone, I doubt that whatever organization they're working with will have any control in this part of the world. Greeks are known for refusing to collaborate with the enemy, and for going to great lengths to do what they consider right. And as I mentioned before, Cretans, in particular, hate exterior authority or those who pretend to it. The local police are hated and ignored, and especially on the rural south coast, people more or less police their own towns with little outside involvement. Cretans are unlikely to be convinced that some authority figure has a legitimate reason to apprehend us, and they're even less likely to take a bribe. Some time, I should tell you about the Cretan resistance during World War II. It's kind of amazing – little old ladies hiding in mountain passes and throwing rocks at passing Nazis, stuff like that. So yeah, I don't think anyone here is going to hand over four young, polite, pleasant looking tourists like us to any spooky task force."

"_Pleasant_ looking?" Adrian said. "I'm a little more than pleasant, you guys. More like, 'devastatingly handsome.'"

The rest of us ignored him.

"Well, screw it then," Eddie said. "Let's just go to that town as we are. We'll eat and rest, and then come up with a plan for... tomorrow." He stood up and began brushing the dust off his legs.

"I'm up for it!" Jill said, as we all started to stand up as well. "I've never had Greek food – I hope I like it." She stepped from the shade of the outcropping, then winced slightly. "Omigod, this _sun_," she said. "I can't deal with this." She concentrated for a moment, and then a small cloud began to coalesce over her head. "The sea air is damp," she explained, seeing our surprised faces. "Plenty of moisture to work with." The cloud was becoming more solid looking, thick enough to cast a distinct shadow over her, like a parasol. "Hey, Adrian, want to walk under the cloud with me?"

"JB, you are a queen among women," Adrian remarked affectionately, and stepped under the cloud with Jill. The cloud expanded slightly until it cast a shadow over both of them.

"Jill, you are a good person to know," I said, as we all started walking along the trail that winded alongside the cliff face, away from the promontory, down to the beach.

She smiled, embarrassed. "I hope so," she said. "I feel like we're only here because of me."

"What?" I exclaimed. "No way. None of this is your fault."

"Then who's fault is it?" she asked.

"Mine," Eddie said. "I didn't plan ahead to get us out of that place."

"No," Adrian said. "If I hadn't gotten shot like a noob, we could have gotten to Jill faster, before all hell broke loose."

"And if I hadn't been there in that parking lot that morning, no one would have kidnapped Jill," I said.

"OK, OK," Jill said. "I guess... it's not really our fault, is it?"

There was a bit of a silence as we walked carefully along the narrow path around the side of the cliff-face. Bees were humming through the little red and yellow flowers, and we had to walk carefully to avoid the many thorns that stuck out from the olive green shrubs.

"It's the fault of the HQ," Adrian said after a moment. "That's what I think. Not any of our faults."

"I guess you're right," Eddie said. "Still. I could have handled it better."

"Eddie," Jill said, affectionately. "Don't talk like that. Didn't you stake, like, twelve Strigoi? I feel like you earned one of those star tattoos like Rose has. You were, like, a battle god or something."

Eddie smiled to himself. "You were pretty great, too," he said. "That shield, and those water cannonballs? You were inspiring."

"That's enough, knock it off before we all get diabetes," Adrian said, but he sounded amused. "Let's just say that we're all really awesome, OK? I mean, I know _I_ am. Even though I didn't contribute much to the fight... ."

"Don't say that," I said. "We couldn't have done anything without your healing power, or your sense of hearing and smell. You were an MVP."

"And your marksmanship made a huge difference," Eddie said. "Seriously, it really did. We made a good team, Ivashkov."

"Well, if this artist thing doesn't work out, maybe I can train to be a guardian," Adrian said. "What do you think, Castile?"

"I think that's a great idea," Eddie said. "Maybe I'll hire you myself."

We all started laughing, as we imagined together what Adrian would be like as a Guardian and what Eddie would be like as a party-boy rich kid. When we exhausted the subject, we just walked along together in companionable silence for a while. Then Adrian said, "So why are there thorns on every single plant, Sage? Does this place hate us or something?"

"There aren't thorns on _everything_," I said. "Just most things. The plants have evolved to be goat-proof, and then the goats evolved to be able to eat them anyway." I knelt down quickly to pick a purple flower from a bush we were passing, then crumbled it in my hand a little and smiled. "Hey, Eddie, smell this."

Eddie, who was walking immediately in front of me, turned to take it from me, and said, before he even brought it to his nose, "Wow! What is this? It smells like pizza!"

"Omigod," Jill said, turning to look behind her. "I've been smelling pizza this whole time and I was starting to worry that I really was hallucinating from that Vigil stuff but you guys smell it too? And it's coming from those purple flowers?"

"Wild oregano, I think," I said, as Eddie passed the flower along to Jill and Adrian to sniff - not that they needed to get too close to the flower to be able to smell it clearly. "And these ones," I added, as I knelt to pick a small branch from another shrub with drab gray leaves. "This stuff is sage, I'm pretty sure."

"Sage?" Adrian said. "No wonder you brought us here!"

I smiled. "It must be my homeland," I said.

The trail finally began to wind down the steep hill, away from the cliff and down to the beach. As it did, it turned from hard packed dirt to loose sand, so we had to focus on keeping our footing for a few minutes. After a bit of a scramble, we reached the actual beach, and then we crossed the low dunes to the harder-packed sand further back from the water. A few white lilies grew from the dunes, hiding from the sun in the shade of cedar-like trees. We set off with the deep blue ocean across a span of white sand to our left, walking parallel to an asphalt paved road to our right.

"Hey," Adrian said, suddenly. "Didn't Maeve say something about you going for a walk on the beach, Sage?"

"What?" I said. It was actually a little hard to hear him over the wind and the waves.

"Don't you remember? We were talking about long walks on the beach, and you said you'd never walked along a beach, and Maeve said... something like..."

Eddie spoke up. "I remember that," he said. "She said that the next time she was in a spell circle, she'd ask for you to be able to take a walk on a beach. And here we are." He shook his head in wonder.

"I guess this counts," I said, slowly "I mean... I'm walking, and this is a beach..."

"I think she'll be happy to know that her wish for you came true," Eddie said, affectionately.

Jill looked at him intently for a moment before saying, "That's kind of spooky. I guess she really was a witch." She paused, then said, "Hey guys? Do you guys smell... like... something sweet? Like pies and cakes and cookies and doughnuts and stuff? Tell me you do or else maybe I'll think I'm going crazy again."

Adrian and Eddie sniffed at the air. Eddie shook his head, but Adrian pointed to a building coming up on our right. "I smell it," he said. "It's coming from that building. I vote we go there and find the source of that smell and eat exactly all of it."

"Seconded," Jill said.

"What do you think, Chief?" Eddie asked.

"Seems like the thing to do," I said, and we began walking at an angle across the beach, toward the building.

The town was easier to see now that we'd gotten closer. It appeared to be not much more than a small collection of cafes, shops, and small hotels, most of them facing out towards the sea on a narrow road that bordered the water. There were a few smaller roads that lead back away from the water, towards the rolling mountains in the distance. The air was damp from the sea, but most of the vegetation looked a little dry. All in all, the place looked sleepy and calm, and I wondered if it would still seem like that once people began to wake up.

We soon came to the building that Adrian and Jill had sniffed out. We crossed a wide covered patio, furnished with round tables and comfy looking chairs, and headed to the front door. A sign over the door had a Greek word very similar to the ancient Greek word for bakery, as if we needed a clue beyond the smell of cakes and bread.

"Hey," Adrian said, pulling me aside as Jill and Eddie went inside. "Come here a sec."

"Hmm? What is it?" I asked.

"Just wanted to give you this," he said, and kissed me.

When we pulled apart, I smiled at him. "What was that for?"

"No reason," he said, looking at me. I gazed into his eyes, and then the world went a little blurry for a second. There was nothing at all to think about except the emerald green of Adrian's eyes. Nothing. Then he gave me another quick kiss. "I love you, you know," he said.

"You told me that a few minutes ago," I said, blinking in confusion. "But I love you too. And I'm starving, so let's go!"

He smiled, a relieved sort of smile. "Me too," he said. "Couldn't agree more." He offered me his arm and we went in.

Jill and Eddie were staring down at a display of cookies and pastries, each labeled with a small handwritten sign – in Greek, of course. While my friends oohed and aahed over the food, I called out, "Hello?"

A kind looking older woman came out of a back room, smiling, and said something that sounded like "Oh-ree-stay." Her dark hair was tied into a bun at the nape of her neck, and her skin was tanned a golden brown. Her smile faltered a little as she took in the sight of us, and I realized a moment too late how we must look to her. Eddie, Adrian, and I were all wearing jeans that were so dirty from wading through the dirty water that they almost looked like they'd been dipped into black pain for an ombre effect. Eddie's shirt had a bullet hole in the shoulder, surrounded a splotch of dark brown blood. There were singe marks on my blue t-shirt from the flamethrower. There were drips of dried blood on Adrian's collar from where the Strigoi had fed from him. Jill was wearing the same pajama set she'd been wearing for a week, and she was jittery and strung out looking from the Vigil. We all stunk of sweat, dirt, and flamethrower chemicals.

"Good morning," I said, as pleasantly as I could. "Do you speak English?"

"Of course," she replied, with a hesitant smile. "May I help you? What would you like?"

"Everything," Adrian said, turning on the charm. "Please, just shove it all into my mouth directly."

The woman laughed, pleased at the implied compliment for her pastries.

"As you can probably tell, we're really hungry," I said. "We've... traveled a long way."

"And you had, perhaps, an accident?" the woman said, looking us up and down again.

"Yes," Adrian said smoothly. "A terrible car accident."

"And, um, most of our bags were stolen, and now all we have is American money and no exchange places are open yet. Can I give you some American money for some food? I'll pay you extra, and it would mean a lot to us."

Without pausing, the woman scooped up a few small cookies and put them into a wax paper bag, and handed them over to me. "From me," she said, tapping her chest. "Eat, eat."

"Thank you," I said, surprised, and my friends all added their thanks to mine. I took a cookie and passed the bag along, and we each took one, thanking the baker profusely. The cookies had a light flavor, reminiscent of pistachios.

"This is really good," Jill said, crumbs falling out of her mouth.

Eddie offered her his cookie, but she waved his hand away, so he ate his in one bite.

"What else would you like?" the baker asked, and gestured to the display case.

"What are all of these?" Jill asked, pointing to a row of delicious looking pastries.

"This is ham and cheese pie," the woman said, pointing. "This is apple pie, and spinach pie, and this one, this is spinach and cheese pie, and this is just cheese, and this is hot dog pie, and this is bacon pie..."

Adrian interrupted. "Did you say bacon? Bacon pie? Can I have that?"

"Of course," she said. "Warm?"

"Warm?" Adrian said. "Yes, please."

I selected a spinach pie, and Eddie and Jill both chose the ham and cheese.

"To drink?" the woman asked.

"She wants coffee," Adrian said, pointing to me.

"Yes please," I said. While the pastries heated up, the baker made me a Greek coffee, and poured us each a glass of what turned out to be fresh-squeezed orange juice, each in a plastic cup with a bright pink straw.

"Where do you stay?" the baker asked, as she worked.

"We don't have a hotel yet," I answered.

"We just got here," Eddie said.

"But I think we'll stay awhile," Adrian said.

"Did you come from Heraklio?" the woman asked. "Rethymno? Chania?"

"Um, Heraklio," I said, choosing the only name on the list that I recognized. Heraklio was the largest city on Crete, and I realized a moment too late that it was quite a distance from wherever it was we were, on the north coast and far to the east.

"I see," she said. "You did travel far."

"Yeah," I said. "So we need a nice place to rest for a while."

"This is a nice place to rest," the woman said. "Much better than Heraklio." She made a face. "But how did you get here so early? The first bus doesn't come for thirty, forty minutes."

"It's not important," Adrian said, meeting her eyes.

She tensed up for a moment, then relaxed. "You're right," she said. "It's not important."

My heart sank, and I could tell that Adrian was uncomfortable, too, but it was better that this kind woman didn't get too involved in our story, I thought.

"Thank you again for your help," I said. "How do you say 'thank you' in Greek?"

The woman smiled as she placed the last few items on the tray. "Do you want to learn Greek?" she asked.

"I only know ancient Greek," I said, and recited the first line from_ The Iliad_ in the original language. To my surprise, the woman recited it along with me.

"_Bravo_," she said, nodding in approval. "You speak very good." She started to move from behind the counter, taking up the tray and gesturing to the tables outside. We followed her out onto the patio as she continued to talk. "In modern Greek, 'thank you' is ef-ha-ree-_sto_."

We all tried to say the word as she put the tray down on one of the tables, and she patiently corrected us a few times, making sure that we were putting the emphasis on the last syllable.

"Well, efhareesto for teaching us," I said. "And efhareesto for the food. Here's what we have to pay with." I handed her a twenty dollar bill, reasoning that after the conversion to euros it still had to cover the prices of the goodies.

She handed me back the money. "No, no," she said. "Is from me. It is my pleasure."

"Please take the money," I said. "We can't accept all that."

She considered, then took the money from my hand. "I'll check," she said, inscrutably. "_Kali orexi_. Enjoy your food."

"We will," Jill said, her mouth full of pasty. "It's soooo good."

The woman laughed and went back into the building.

For a few minutes, none of us spoke. Jill was devouring the ham pie delightedly, and the whole thing had pretty much disappeared by now. Adrian was making little happy noises as he ate, muttering something that sounded like "baconbaconbacon...". Eddie was eating more sedately, as if trying not to get crumbs on himself, but was failing pretty miserably. I ended up finishing my spinach pie in moments, and wished I could have another one. When we'd scarfed down every morsel, we sat there sipping at our orange juice, looking out over the ocean, while the last streaks of pink disappeared from the sky. I couldn't remember ever tasting orange juice so fresh, or seeing such a pretty sunrise.

A few moments later, the baker woman came back out, holding another small tray. She put it down on our table and I saw four mismatched glasses full of water. There was also a large wax paper bag that was overflowing with pastries.

"Too much money," the woman said, and put a five euro note down on the table. "Take these, for later maybe."

"Effhareesto," Eddie and I said, in near unison.

"What they said," Adrian said.

"Yes, thank you so much," Jill said, pulling a chocolate croissant from the bag. She promptly pulled it apart and shoved half of it into her mouth. Eddie leaned over and wiped the chocolate from the side of her mouth with his thumb, and they gave each other a look.

"Welcome to Plakias," the baker said, while we passed the bag around. If she was surprised that we weren't saving the treats for later, she didn't say anything.

"Is that where we are? Plakias?" I was careful to pronounce it as she had, with the emphasis on the last syllable.

"Yes," she said, slightly surprised. "You didn't know?"

"I um, had never heard it pronounced out loud," I said. "I only read it on signs."

"Oh," the woman said, nodding.

"I like the name," Jill said, with a mouth full of croissant. "Plakias."

"Me too," Adrian said. He'd chosen an apple pastry, and as I watched, he licked a little apple filling off his thumb. I got momentarily distracted by the sight, and when he noticed me looking at him, he gave me a sly look that made my stomach leap.

"Do you know a nice pace where we could stay, not too expensive?" Eddie asked, choosing an enormous sugar doughnut, while I dug out an apple pastry.

"Go to Rooms Thetis," the baker said, and gave a quick set of directions. "It's Yanni's place." She glanced at her watch. "Probably, he is in the garden," she said. "He will give you good price. Fair price."

"We'll go there first thing," I said, and tried a bite of my pie, which turned out to be amazing, all buttery and warm. "Thank you. And thank you again for the food. Effhareesto."

"Parakalo," she replied, and after another round of enthusiastic thank yous, she went back inside, and we lapsed back into silence as we ate. We shared bites of our treats with each other, and everything was amazingly good. Soon we found ourselves settling into a happy haze that you can feel when you're safe and comfortable, looking out over a beautiful view, with your friends, the recipients of random human kindness.

When we were done eating, we got up, brushing off the many, many pastry flakes from our laps.

"I'll just bring in the empty water glasses," I said, getting up.

"I can do that," Adrian said, rising to his feet.

"I got it," I said. "I want to try my Greek on her some more."

He smiled. "Go get nerdy, you sexy thing," he said.

"Ewwww," Jill said. "Just... _ewwwwwww_."

Adrian laughed, and as I walked into the building again, I heard the two of them genially bickering about PDAs.

"Hi," I said, as I went back in. "Just wanted to bring this in for you, and to say thanks again."

"Really, it is no problem," the woman said, smiling.

"How late are you open today?" I asked, thinking ahead to dinner later.

The baker's smile faltered. "I go home in the afternoon," she said. "When my son comes. And then he stays until we close. Maybe eight o'clock. Maybe ten. I don't know for sure."

It was clear that something about this line of conversation was making the woman uncomfortable, and I didn't want to pry. "Well, I hope we see you again soon," I said. "You make very good pies."

"Yes, come back," she said. "You can practice Greek with me."

This reminded me to ask her how to say a few things in modern Greek, and she was happy to oblige me by jotting the words down on a napkin for me. I tucked it into my pocket, said "effhareesto" again, and waved goodbye as I went back outside.

"Fluent yet?" Adrian asked.

"Almost," I said. "Come on, let's go."

The baker had pointed out a road that led around the side of a large hotel, away from the seafront, and we followed her directions as best we could. Thankfully, this road was in the shade of the mountain, meaning that Adrian and Jill were spared the worst of the sun's rays.

"So, we'll get two rooms," Eddie said, as we walked. "One for the girls, and one for the boys."

I crinkled my nose. I wanted to share a room with Adrian, but at the same time, I didn't want to make Jill or Eddie uncomfortable. "What do you think, Jill?" I asked.

"I... I'd be happy sharing a room with any of you," Jill said. "But I kind of thought that you and Adrian would want a room together. I mean, it's not like you two haven't already..." She trailed off. "I mean, I didn't _mean_ to snoop, but I couldn't stop myself from knowing, um, certain things."

Adrian's eyes went a little out of focus as he stared at Jill's aura. Then he said, "I think we're all mature enough to share rooms with who we really want to. You're a pretty hot guy, Castile, but I'd rather share a room with Sage here. But if either of you don't want to share a room, just say so. We'll figure something out."

"I wouldn't mind sharing with Eddie," Jill said. "We can figure it out, right, Eddie?"

"If you're sure," he said, taking her hand.

"I'm not saying... like... anything about anything really, except that we could share a room and like, hang out and stuff." The tips of her ears were pink. "Hey," she added, pointing to a sign on a building we were passing. "That sign, it says, 'Rooms To Let,' but for a second I thought it said 'Rooms Toilet' and that's kind of funny..." She twirled her hair into a ponytail, then let it go again.

"If we get two rooms, we can always move around later, if we need to," I said. "Nothing's set in stone."

"Right," Eddie said. "Hey – is that the place? The baker said there'd be a garden." He was pointing to a two story building made of white stucco and surrounded by a hedge blooming with fragrant white flowers. The scent was so strong, in fact, I could smell it from where I stood, and I recognized the hedge as _Lonicera periclymenum_ – honeysuckle. Through gaps in the hedge we could see a beautiful flower garden, complete with little gravel paths and a small swingset for children.

"There's the sign," Adrian said, pointing to a carved wooden sign reading _Rooms Thetis_. "This has to be the place."

We stepped through the entrance-way and stared in surprise at all the flowers. Someone had spent a long time making this little oasis, and that someone had to be the old couple sitting at a picnic table, playing backgammon. The man, who must have been the Yanni that the baker had told us about, got up the moment he saw us. He looked to be in his late 60s, with trim salt-and-pepper hair and a face lined from smiling. Our outlandish appearance didn't appear to surprise him much. "_Oreestay_," he said, pleasantly. "_Kali mera sas_."

"_Kali mera_," I said back. It was one of the phrases from my napkin: _good morning_. "Do you have any rooms free, please?"

"Yes, yes," the man said, walking over to where we stood. I noticed that he had a pronounced limp. "Yes, nice rooms, very nice rooms."

The woman who had been playing backgammon with Yanni, whose hair was an extremely dark shade of black, took in our appearance quickly, then smiled at us and said, "_Kali mera_." Jill, Eddie, and Adrian repeated the phrase after I quickly whispered to them what it meant.

"Oh, what a gorgeous cat," Jill exclaimed, half-running over to the picnic table, where a large tabby cat was lying on the bench in a patch of sun. "Hello, little baby!" she cooed to the cat, while the woman looked on, pleased. "Hello! What pretty green eyes you have! Does the 'M' on your forehead stand for 'marvelous'? Hmmm? Or 'magnificent'?" The cat rolled over on his back so that Jill could pet his belly, which she did with enthusiasm. "What's his name?" she asked the woman.

The woman looked up at her husband, who said something to her in Greek. Then the woman said, "Kahula. Name Kahula."

"Kahula baby," Jill cooed. "Hello, Kahula. Goooooood kitty."

Eddie sat down next to her, and they both began petting the cat, who seemed quite pleased to have so much attention. That left me and Adrian to talk to Yanni.

Though the man wasn't quite as fluent in English as the baker had been, he was just as kind. We explained that we were very tired, and asked if it was OK to have a room right away, even though check-in time couldn't be for hours. He clearly didn't mind us checking in early, and we soon deciding to take two rooms for at least two nights. The price Yanni quoted was surprisingly low, setting my mind at ease. When we asked, he gave us quick directions to a place along the waterfront that exchanged currency. I offered to run over right away, but he waved his hand in a "don't worry" gesture.

"It's fine," he said. "I wait until later. Do you want to see the rooms before you decide?"

"I'm sure they're fine," I said. I had already decided that we would stay here.

"_Endaxi_," said Yanni, which, from context, I deduced meant something like 'OK.' We followed him into a small lobby and he limped behind a small counter. On the wall was a row of numbered hooks, on which hung several very old fashioned keys. His wife passed by us, waving politely as she went inside to an inner room.

"You are on holiday?" Yanni asked, looking around on his desk for something.

"We're on our honeymoon," Adrian said, and I sighed internally. Who goes on their honeymoon with another couple?

But the old man's face lit up. Apparently, the story didn't seem odd to him. "You honeymoon here in Kriti? Good! Bravo!"

"Yes," Adrian said, putting his arm around me. "My wife and I wanted to go somewhere with a lot of culture. Does wine count as culture?"

"Wine," Yanni said, nodding. "Yes, wine. And also, raki. Do you like raki?"

"Is it a form of alcohol?" Adrian asked.

"Yes," the old man replied. "Good for you! Cures everything!"

"Raki," Adrian said, rolling the r emphatically.

"Bravo!" Yanni exclaimed. "You speak good Greek!"

"Effharesto!" Adrian said.

Yanni clapped him on the shoulder. "I think you are Greek!" the man said, which made Adrian smile. "Now, please, I need a passport," the old man said, opening a huge leather bound ledger. "Just one is fine."

"Not a problem," Adrian said, digging through his backpack. He pulled out the fake passport he'd been working on while we were driving in the Mercury. "Here you go, sir," he said, looking the man in the eye. "This is my passport."

"Yes," the man said.

"See, there's my photo on it," Adrian said. "See it? And see my name?"

"John Edward Thomas Steele," said Yanni, nodding. He copied some information into the ledger, and then absent-mindedly handed the passport back.

I felt awful. This was a nice man, and it seemed wrong to play with his mind, even if we weren't really hurting him. I looked at Adrian, and he smiled back at me, nodding.

"I'm happy to meet you, sir," Adrian said, and offered Yanni his hand.

When their hands touched, the old man stood still for a moment, as if surprised at something, and then smiled. "Yes, you too," he said. "OK, I take you to your rooms, please." He gestured for us to follow him back out and into the garden again, and once he began walking, I noticed that his limp was gone.

"Adrian," I whispered. "Did you...?"

"Yes," he said. "I felt bad about lying so..."

"Me too, but you can't keep using so much spirit."

"I'm already overdue for a breakdown," he said. "I figured I might as well go for it, at this point."

"We'll talk about it later," I whispered, squeezing his hand, and he nodded and stepped back outside. Then he laughed. "Hey, Sage," he said, and pointed.

Apparently, when the old woman had left Jill and Eddie alone, they had found a way to entertain themselves. They were kissing, with the cat sitting on Jill's lap in between them.

"Alright, guys, break it up," Adrian said, and they sprang apart guiltily. The cat, upset at being jostled, jumped lightly to the ground, stretched, and found a new patch of sunlight to lie down in. But the old man, who had been standing there a moment, just laughed. I had to imagine that he'd seen couples kissing before, perhaps in that very spot.

"Sorry," Jill said, turning faintly pink. "Sorry, Kahula. Sorry, Mr. Yanni."

Eddie just grinned, looking down at the ground. "Um, we were... petting the cat... and um..."

"It's ok," I said. "Come on, he's going to take us to our rooms."

The old man was grinning as he waited for us at the foot of a set of stairs that led up the outside of the building to the second floor. "Love," he said. "Is good, is good. Yes."

"So true," Adrian said, philosophically, and the four of us shuffled up the stairs.

"Where is your bags?" the man asked us as we walked down a short hallway.

"We have no bags," I said.

"They were stolen," Adrian said.

"Oh, terrible, terrible," said the old man, feelingly. "I am very sorry. You had an accident, maybe?"

"Yes," I said. "Bad accident."

The man made a tsk noise with his tongue. "Too many bad drivers," he said. "Drive too fast. _Siga, siga_. Slow is better."

"I agree," I said.

Yanni paused for a moment to point out a communal kitchen, telling us that we were welcome to use it whenever we wanted, then moved on to the end of the hall. "So, this room, is for you two," he said. He gestured to me and Adrian, then opened the door. "I give you a free upgrade."

The four of us walked into a room with a big double bed, a TV, a fridge, and little else. Yanni opened a sliding glass door, showing us a large balcony, complete with a round table and a few chairs. Because the room was on the side of the building, the balcony offered us views of both the ocean and the mountains, and I already was imagining myself with a cool drink in my hand, watching the stars with Adrian later on that night.

"Do you like it?" Yanni asked.

"We love it," Adrian said.

"Good, good," Yanni said, and turned to Eddie and Jill. "Now, please, your room. Is also nice room, follow me please."

Adrian and I followed along to see the room that the old man had picked out for Jill and Eddie. It turned out to be a bit smaller than the first room, though with similar décor. I noticed that the "double bed" was actually a pair of twin beds pushed together, which I thought was slightly odd but potentially useful. The room also had a TV and mini fridge, but only a tiny balcony. Still, it was all very clean, and the balcony looked down to the sea. Jill took the key with thanks, and the old man smiled at us all again and left the room.

"Why do _we_ get the smaller room?" Eddie groused.

"Because you're not on your honeymoon," Adrian said.

"Neither are you," Eddie said.

"Shows what you know," Adrian said, and kissed me on the cheek. "Right, honey pie?"

"Yeah, we're going to have to have a talk about that," I said, rolling my eyes, and he laughed.

"I don't care," Jill said, cheerfully. "I think it's a nice room. I'm happy." She flounced down on the bed, then made a bit of a face. "Hard mattress," she said, then shrugged. "Lot better than a concrete floor, though."

"So, should we rest for a bit, and then maybe meet up later, to start figuring things out?" Eddie asked.

"I want to go to the exchange place first," I said.

"Right now?" Adrian asked, getting out his money clip.

"I'll just feel better once we have that taken care of," I said. Adrian nodded and handed a wad of cash to me.

"I'll come with you," Eddie said. "I'll want to get a feel for the town. Make sure there's nothing I need to keep my eye on.

I smiled. Eddie never stopped doing his job.

"I'd go too, but... the _sun_," Jill said. "I can't exactly do my cloud trick if lots of people are around."

"You and Adrian should stay," Eddie said. "Sydney and I can even pick up a few things on the way back. I think I saw some grocery stores and stuff along the sea front. Oh, and Jill, there's a change of clothes for you my backpack." He slid the bag from his shoulders and Jill sprang to her feet excitedly.

"Oh thank _God_," she said. "I've been wearing these clothes for like a week, I must smell awful."

"You smell fine," Eddie said, which wasn't entirely truthful.

"Well I got washed off in all that water," Jill said. "But still. _Yuck_."

"You OK to go by yourself?" Adrian asked me. "The sun is pretty strong, but I'll go with you if you want me to."

"I'm fine," I said, and kissed him on the cheek. "And I'll be with Eddie, anyway."

Adrian nodded. "I'll see you when you get back," he said. He looked over at Jill, who was holding the clothes up to herself to check for fit. "I'm going back to my room, so I'll see you in a few hours, JB."

"Bye for now, Adrian," she said.

"See you in a minute," Eddie said to Jill, and stepped forward to give her a kiss. She grabbed his head in her hands and kissed him back, then they stepped apart. "Um," Eddie said, looking at me and Adrian. "Can you give us a minute?"

Adrian and I exchanged a look, and then we both nodded. "I'll see you downstairs," I told Eddie, and went out into the hall with Adrian.

"Should we be worried about those two?" Adrian asked me softly, once we'd closed the door behind us. "Jill's pretty young to be sharing a hotel room with a guy... Maybe we should have gone with Castile's idea about a boy's room and a girl's room."

I hid a smile. All of a sudden, Adrian had turned into a big brother. "What did Jill's aura say?" I asked.

"That she wants to share the room with Eddie," Adrian said.

"Well, she's the same age that I was when I went to Siberia by myself," I said. "And that's how old Rose was when she went to Siberia to try to kill Dimitri, right? I mean, compared to that, sharing a room with a trusted friend doesn't seem so scary."

"Castile better be a gentleman," Adrian said.

"I don't think he knows how to be much else," I said.

Adrian blinked at me a moment, and then laughed. "You're right, Sage," he said. "Maybe it's Castile we should be worried about. Able to stake a dozen Strigoi, but terrified of one beautiful Moroi girl."

That struck me as a very accurate description of Eddie. "I think they'll both be fine," I said.

He leaned down to give me another quick kiss. "I'm going to go check out what's on TV," he said, jerking his head toward our hotel room door. "I'll see you when you get back."

I nodded, kissed him on the cheek, and went back outside and down the stairs.

The cat, Kahula, was happily rolling in a sunny patch of dirt, and I bent down to give him a few little head scratches while I waited for Eddie. "Good kitty," I said. "Do you know my friend Max? Do all you kitties know each other?"

The cat rolled over and purred.

"I'll take that as a yes," I said, and straightened up.

"_Ya sas_," said a voice behind me, and I turned around to see the woman, Yanni's wife.

"_Ya sas_," I repeated. It was another phrase from my napkin, and meant both 'hello' and 'good-bye'.

"_Ego eimai Maria_," the woman said, gesturing to herself.

"Oh," I said. "You're Maria. I'm, um, Sophia."

"Sophia," she repeated, smiling. "_Milate ellenika_?"

"I... I don't speak modern Greek," I said in English, and her face fell. "But, I do speak ancient Greek," I added, switching to that language as I spoke. "I know it's very different from modern Greek, so I don't know if you will understand me at all."

Her eyes widened in surprise. It must have been what it would be like for a speaker of modern English to meet someone who could talk only in Shakespearean English. After a moment of staring at me, Maria laughed and let out a torrent of Greek, very little of which I understood. She tapped on the picnic table benches, and we sat down together and started chatting in a mixture of ancient Greek, modern Greek, English, and body language.

Maria asked me why I had studied ancient Greek, and I told her that I wanted to read the Bible, an answer that she seemed to appreciate. I asked her about her backgammon game with her husband, and she said that they had already played seven games today, and that she was winning, 5-2. Then she told me that her husband had told her about our bags being stolen, and said that she was very sorry about it. She asked how much we'd lost, and I told her that we'd lost everything but a few changes of clothing and some money. Hearing that, she stood up suddenly.

"_Ela_," she said, gesturing for me to follow her into the building.

I glanced up at the stairs. Still no sign of Eddie, and it'd been a minute or two. I smiled at the woman, shrugging internally, and followed her inside, through the lobby to the inner room, which turned out to be a storage area of some kind.

"For you," she said, with her thick accent, and pointed to a large cardboard box on a shelf. As I examined it, Maria explained to me in Greek that this was her stash of stuff that people had left behind at the hotel over the last month - shampoo, conditioner, lotion, sunscreen, toothpaste, and so on. Most of the bottles were mostly empty, but there was still enough in the box as a whole to probably keep us set for a week or so.

"This is so helpful," I said. "_Efhareesto_."

"_Parakalo_," she said, modestly, then explained that she had held on to the stuff just for occasions just like this one. I said goodbye to her and took the box back out and around and up the stairs, marveling at our fortune.

The door leading inside the building was propped open, and as I stepped into the hall, I heard Adrian saying, "Just don't mention it to her."

"I won't," Eddie replied. "But I still think..."

"Sage!" Adrian said loudly, interrupting Eddie. "Is that you?"

"That's me," I said, coming around the corner so that they could see me. They were standing near the doorway to the room I was going to share with Adrian, slightly guilty looks on their faces. Had they been talking about me?

"What do you have there?" Eddie asked, gesturing to the box. I noticed with approval that he'd changed into a clean t-shirt.

I explained to them about the leftover toiletries, and they both expressed their surprise at the windfall. "I'll split it up with Jill while you two are out," Adrian said, taking the box, and went to knock on Jill's door.

"Let's go," Eddie said, pointing to the exit.

I followed him outside and down the stairs. I considered asking him what he and Adrian had been talking about, but felt certain somehow that I wouldn't like the answer.


	74. III: Anke and Skye

**Book III: The Other Side**

**Chapter 2: Anke and Skye**

When Eddie and I went downstairs to the garden, we found Yanni and Maria seated back at the picnic table, playing backgammon again. Kahula was lying on the bench, butting his head against Maria's hand. The couple smiled a hello at us, and we smiled back and headed out to the little road.

"Yanni said to turn right three times," I said, pointing at a turnoff up ahead.

"I'll follow you, Chief," Eddie said, as we started walking. "You're the one with the mojo."

"I don't have mojo," I said. "I just have directions."

Eddie chuckled. "Fair enough," he said.

"So, are you really OK with sharing a room with Jill?" I asked. "I can always come up with some excuse to rearrange things, if that's what you really want."

"No, it's fine," Eddie said. "I don't want to rush anything, but honestly, I'm happy to share a room with her, if for no other reason than I want to know she's safe."

"I'm _sure_ that's the reason," I said, smiling.

"Hey," Eddie said, uncomfortably. "Come on."

"Sorry," I said, as we made the turn to head toward the seafront. "I'm happy for you two, really. I know how much you care about each other."

Eddie shook his head. "I'm having trouble believing it," he said. "I think the whole thing with Jill... you know... the thing with her liking me back... It's been more surprising than waking up on a Greek island." He laughed. "And _that_ was pretty frickin' surprising."

"Yeah, I guess it must have been weird," I said. "I mean, it was weird for me, too, but at least I saw the door and walked through it..."

"Exactly," Eddie said. "I just woke up with sunshine in my eyes and Adrian and Jill saying, 'Hey! We're somewhere else now!'" He shook his head. "Part of me wonders if I died back in the fight with the Strigoi, and this is... the afterlife."

"I thought you didn't believe in an afterlife," I said.

"I'm not religious," Eddie said. "But I guess I haven't made up my mind all the way."

"Well, if this is the afterlife, it sure is windier than I'd expected," I said, pulling hair out of my mouth again.

"With a bit more goat shit," Eddie said, pointing to a pile of the stuff by the side of the road.

I smiled, then gestured straight ahead, to the glittering water in the distance. "But I think the ocean belongs in heaven," I said.

"Definitely," Eddie agreed.

"It's like that scene from the end of _The_ _Voyage of the Dawn Treader_," I said. "When they float on the sparkling sea full of flowers as they go to the end of the world."

"I read that book," Eddie said. "A long time ago. Good book."

"Yeah, it is," I said. "Anyway, as to what you were saying before, about Jill. I don't think you need to be worried. I'm not very good at romantic advice, but the way I see it, if Adrian and I can figure it out, then so can you and Jill."

"I hope you're right," he said. "I just couldn't handle it if I lost her. Especially not now. If I screw this up, I'll never forgive myself."

"Don't think of it that way," I said. "For one thing, Jill is probably worried about that, too. She really likes you. She has this whole time."

Eddie stared at me. "She has?"

"Of course. I mean, she kissed you a bunch of times – what did you think that meant?"

"Not that she actually _cared_ about me," Eddie said. "I don't know. I mean, I knew she liked me a little, and that we were good friends, but I didn't think we were really like _that_. Half the time I got the impression she was just acting out the things she saw in her head that you and Adrian were doing. Like I was just the stand in."

We reached the road that ran parallel to the water and turned right. The beach was now across the street to our left, and we walked along a narrow sidewalk, passing a series of shops and cafes, many of which weren't open yet. We passed a few people dressed only in swimsuits and flip-flops, and I wondered at their lack of inhibition. _I_ could never walk around in a swimsuit like that.

"Jill wasn't a slave to her visions," I said, as we continued to walk. "And anyway, she had strong feelings for you. She talked about you all the time."

"Wait, she actually _told_ you that she liked me?" Eddie exclaimed. "At the _time_?"

"Well, yes, she did," I said. "We're friends. I'm really the only person she could talk to about it, since everyone else thought you were her brother. Actually, that's what we were talking about the morning that the HQ guys caught us – how upset and confused she was about you..." I trailed off, seeing the irritated look on his face. "What?"

"This whole time, you _knew_?" Eddie said. "You knew how we both felt, and you didn't tell me?"

"It wasn't my secret to tell," I said. "Would you have wanted me to tell _her_ how _you_ were feeling?"

He considered that. "I see what you mean," he said, slowly.

"I told both of you to try actually talking to each other, and neither of you did," I said. "It drove me nuts."

"Well, it drove me and Jill nuts when you broke up with Adrian and both of you guys walked around like zombies for weeks," Eddie said. "Anyway, I didn't come along with you to talk about Jill."

"Of course not," I said. "You came along so could you do a Guardian-style lap around the village and check for any security breaches."

He laughed outright at that. "You know me well, Chief," he said. "But I'll come along with you to the money exchange place first. What's it called again? Ali... Ali-something."

"Alianthos," I said. "But while you were here, there was something else I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asked. "I hope it's not advice about you and Adrian because I have no idea..."

"No," I said, with a little laugh. I looked around us to see if anyone was close enough to hear, then said, "Blood. Specifically: where are we going to get enough blood for Jill and Adrian?"

"I guess... you and I can supply them for now," he said, uncomfortably. "And really, I can supply Adrian too, if you want."

I stared at him. "What?" I said. "You were willing to hitch-hike all the way to Gold Run to get blood for Adrian, and now you're willing to let him bite you?"

"I protect my friends," Eddie said, tersely, and closed his mouth.

"But... Adrian's been your friend this whole time," I said. "What's changed?"

"The endorphin blocker changed everything," Eddie said, referring to the bit of alchemist technology I'd whipped up back in that awful basement. "Now that I know that you can make me something like that, there's nothing to stop me from providing blood to both of them. I won't get high, and won't get addicted."

"Yes, that's true, but... you and me feeding them isn't exactly a long-term solution."

"We won't be here that long," he said.

"We might be," I said. "And as I understand it, during that time when Rose fed Lissa when they were hiding from Moroi society, it was kind of crappy for both of them. Rose told me about it later. She said she was always weak from losing blood, and meanwhile, Lissa wasn't getting quite enough of it It's not even possible for one active person to feed one Moroi, much less two..."

"Rose was only 15 or 16 then," Eddie said. "Plus, she's tiny. I'm much taller than her. I can handle it. The only reason there was a problem before was the whole... Spokane thing. But of course, for you, it's different."

"How?" I asked.

"You're just not cut out for a feeder," Eddie said. "I mean, you... you're not..." He chewed on his lower lip.

"I'm not what?" I asked.

"You're not used to Moroi society," Eddie said, after a long pause. "The whole getting bitten thing grosses you out."

"Not any more," I said. "I'm OK, really. I just think that we are going to have to try to find another solution. Maybe we can find a blood donation center to steal from, or something like that."

Eddie looked away. "Maybe," he said. "But at least we have a day or two to think of something..."

"Not really," I said. "Jill and Adrian are going to need more blood pretty soon. Probably in the next few hours. I mean, you and I can feed them this time but..."

"They're fine for now," Eddie said. "Adrian just saw that feeder in Colfax. That was only about eight hours ago. And Jill just... I mean, that was like, an hour ago, two max. And she had all that blood from that one guy. From the look of him, she'd almost drained him."

"True," I said. "But think about how hungry we all were – for food, I mean – after we went through the door. It took something out of us, you know? So Jill and Adrian are probably really hungry for blood by now, but they're too polite to say so."

"Maybe," Eddie said, then pointed to a sign up ahead. "Hey, is that the place?" he asked.

"Think so," I said, reading the sign. "Alianthos, that sounds right."

"That wasn't so hard to find," Eddie said. "This town is tiny."

"Anyway," I said. "So we'll look into the blood donation thing, right?"

"Sure," Eddie said, distractedly. "Um, let's worry about it after we've had some rest and stuff. Aren't there studies or something that show that people think more clearly when they're rested and f... fully healed?"

"I'm sure there are," I said. "Ok, we'll table the discussion."

"Good," Eddie said. He opened the door to the car rental agency and stepped back to let me go in ahead of him.

We stepped inside the building and were surprised and refreshed by the sudden strong blast of air conditioning. We were soon greeted by a polite gray haired man who asked us to sit down for a moment as he finished an animated phone conversation in Greek. After a minute or two, he hung up and turned back to us with an interested smile.

"How may I help you?" he asked. He spoke with a British accent that lay on top of a Greek accent, like a layer of varnish over solid wood.

"We'd just like to exchange some money," I said.

"Are you Canadian?" the man asked.

"We have American money," I said, skirting the question slightly.

"I always guess Canadian first," he said. "Americans aren't offended to be thought of as Canadian, but Canadians hate being thought of as American."

I couldn't help but smile, and Eddie laughed a little. "I can see how that would be the case," I said.

"So you're exchanging US dollars for Euro," the man said, flipping open a three ring binder.

"Yes," I said. "If that's ok." I handed him the bundle of bills, and he calmly unrolled it and began counting. He did the necessary calculations on a little solar calculator, then counted out the amount of euro we'd get in exchange. To my surprise, he didn't so much as ask for our names. I put the euros in my pocket and got to my feet.

"Thank you," I said, offering the man my hand to shake.

"Thank _you_," he said, shaking my hand, and Eddie's hand as well. "I hope you'll think of us if you need to rent a car."

"What's worth driving to?" Eddie asked.

The man paused to consider. "Elafounisi, the pink beach," he said. "And Matala, with the hippie caves. The lagoon of Balos, the cave of Zeus, the mountain village of Spili..."

Eddie smiled. "So lots of places, then," he said.

"Crete is a beautiful island," the man said. "I hope to see you again soon."

"Thanks," I said. "_Kali mera_."

"_Kali mera,_" he replied, and we waved goodbye and left.

"That was easier than I thought it would be," Eddie said, once we were out of earshot.

"I know," I said. "I was worried he'd ask for ID or something."

"Me too," Eddie said. "Anyway, now that we're done here, I was thinking of walking to the other end of this road, and then maybe looping around back to the hotel the long way. Want to come with me?"

"I think I'd rather just head straight back," I said. "I want to pay Yanni and Maria as soon as I can."

"Yeah, I want to get back soon, too," Eddie said. "I'll walk fast."

"Not _too_ fast," I said. "You'll blow our cover, dhampir."

Eddie smiled. "I'll have to buy one of those ugly sun hats that everyone has," he said. "I'll fit right in."

"Well, just in case you see something you really do want..." I said, and gave him some money. "I'll put the rest in the little safe in my room when I get back."

"Cool, thanks," Eddie said, tucking the money in his pocket. "Maybe I'll pick up some snacks and stuff for later, and then I'll come by your room in the late afternoon, once we've all slept?"

"Sure," I said. "Maybe we can think of solutions for the blood issue then."

"Yeah," Eddie said.

"And just so you can start to get used to the idea," I added, "I really think we might have to look into finding a feeder here."

Eddie let out a little gasp. "No way," he said. "We can't do that. I mean, _are _there feeders here? Or anywhere on this island?"

"Most likely, there aren't," I said. "I mean, one of the reasons I chose this place is that there are no Moroi or Strigoi here. Way too much sunshine, low population density, remote location – it's just not a good place for sunshine-averse beings who feed off of humans." I could tell that Eddie objected to me lumping Strigoi and Moroi together, but I kept going. "So there aren't any feeders or alchemists, either. That means that we're going to have to find someone who isn't a feeder but is willing to temporarily become one."

"That makes me really uncomfortable," Eddie said.

"Me too," I said.

He smiled wryly. "We never have it easy, do we?" he said.

"Maybe someday we will," I said. "God never gives us a burden greater than what we can carry."

He nodded, and to my surprise, he reached over and gave me a hug. "I'm glad you're here, Chief," he said. We pulled apart and he looked down at me, his hands on my shoulders. "I can't tell you how awful I felt when that Strigoi Wheldon grabbed you and I was too weak to help you. It was like something out of a nightmare. If it had killed you..." He sighed, shook me gently a few times, and released me. "Let's just say I'm really glad it didn't."

"I'm glad you're OK too," I said. "My heart almost stopped when that Strigoi slammed you against the wall. Thank God that Jill is so strong."

"She's the one who saved me?" Eddie asked, surprised.

"Who did you think saved you?" I asked.

"I didn't think about it, actually," Eddie said. "I knew that Adrian carried me through the door so I guess I assumed he dragged me out of the fight..."

"No," I said. "It was Jill."

He smiled fondly. "She's a very surprising person," he said. "And so are you, Sydney. Who knew you could teleport?"

"I didn't..." I started to say, and then sighed, seeing the look on Eddie's face. "Anyway, I'm pretty tired, so I guess I'll go back. I'll see you back at the hotel."

We said goodbye, and I began walking along the road back toward the hotel, while Eddie jogged off in the opposite direction. Once he was gone, I relaxed slightly. I didn't know what to say about the whole teleporting thing, and I never was that good at accepting compliments.

The breeze was calmer now, but the sun was getting brighter nearly every moment. As I walked, I looked out along the beach, squinting a little at the bright sparkling water. From this vantage point, it was clear to me that the town had been built along a wide natural harbor, one shaped like a capital C. At the east end of the harbor were the cliffs where we'd arrived. Then a white stretch of beach curved along for what looked to be about a mile to the west end of the harbor, where a row of small, colorful boats were docked. This was probably once a fishing village, I thought, as I started walking again. But tourism had come to the town and now nothing would ever be the same for the people here.

And these weren't people I wanted to hurt in any way. It was inevitable that my friends and I would have to lie and maybe cheat a little, but there were limits to what I was willing to do. We were going to need a steady source of blood, and there were a lot of good reasons that it couldn't really be me and Eddie. But where on earth would we find a feeder?

In my experience, the people who were most likely to become feeders were either bored rich kids like the girl we'd met in Colfax, or desperate current or former drug addicts who'd found a way to tune out of life without actually dying. While I would never entice someone into a life like that, there were, unfortunately, always going to be people for whom the life of a feeder was attractive, just as there would always be people willing to join cults, or do damaging drugs. But I didn't feel right about introducing that kind of evil into someone's life.

I was just thinking to myself that there were no solutions at all to this problem when I suddenly realized that I wasn't sure where I was. I turned around to retrace my steps, then realized I wasn't even certain whether I wanted to keep going forward or turn around and go back. I decided to try walking back the way I'd come until I found the car rental agency again, and turned around one more time, only to almost bump into two girls who must have been walking directly behind me.

"Oh, sorry," I said, defaulting to English in my surprise.

The girls looked about my age, and they were both holding wax paper bags from the bakery. One girl had twisted her long blonde hair into a bun on the top of her head, and she wore a high-waisted denim skirt with a cropped floral top. The other girl wore loose linen pants, folded in at the waist, with an asymmetrical linen top. Her light brown hair tumbled in loose waves around her face, and a sprinkle of freckles dotted her cheeks and her upturned nose.

"No worries," said the girl with the bun. She had delicate facial features and a dark tan. "Are you maybe a bit lost?" She smiled brightly.

"Maybe a little," I said, identifying the girl's accent as Australian. "I'm trying to find my way back to my hotel."

"Which hotel?" asked the other girl, the brunette.

"Rooms Thetis," I said.

"Oh, that's a good one," said the second girl. She also had an accent, though I couldn't trace it. "I have stayed there many times. My sister stays there when she comes to Crete. It's really cool."

"We're on our way back to the hostel," the Australian girl said. "Walk with us and we'll drop you off at Thetis. It's on the way."

"Oh, that's very kind of you, but I wouldn't want to be a bother," I said.

"Well, it would be a _huge_ bother," said the Australian girl cheerfully. "We have a busy day planned, right, Anke? Like, after brekkie we were full-on going to play backgammon or something for a while, and then maybe go to the beach, or the other beach, or the other other beach, or the other other _other_ beach..."

The second girl, Anke, grinned. "I was thinking, the other _other_ beach today," she said. "Not the other other other beach. Or maybe I would just nap in the hammock."

"Right," said the Australian, and addressing me again, added, "So you're really inconveniencing us on our incredibly busy day, but like, I think it's ok. Come on."

"Ok," I said, smiling. "In that case."

We started to walk along the water front, in the opposite direction from where I had thought I should go.

"I like Rooms Thetis," said Anke. "It's really nice. They have a very beautiful garden and a beautiful cat."

"I _love_ those flowers," enthused the Australian girl. "The little white ones that smell like heaven? _Amazing_."

"They're honeysuckle," I said.

"Is that what they are?" the Australian girl said. "I was wondering." She looked over at me. "I'm Skye, by the way. With an 'e'."

"I'm Sophia," I said.

"My name is Anke," the brunette said, holding out her hand.

"Nice to meet you," I said, shaking her hand.

"How long have you been here on Planet P?" Skye asked.

"Planet P?" I repeated. "Oh, you mean Plakias? We just got here."

"Traveling with friends?" Skye asked.

"My boyfriend, my brother, and his girlfriend," I said.

"That sounds nice," Anke said. "Did Yanni give you the big room? With the balcony?"

"He did, actually," I said.

"That's what he does, if it's open," she said. "He's very nice." She pulled a pastry out of her wax paper bag and held it out to me. I recognized it as a spinach pie, similar to the one I'd had earlier. "Do you want a bite?" she asked.

"No, thank you," I said. "My friends and I actually just had some pies from the bakery for breakfast."

"I _love_ these things," Skye said. "Spanakopita. Just the name, you know? Span-a-ko-pita. It sounds like a magic spell." She tapped on Anke's shoulder with her own spinach pie. "Spanakopita! You are now a beautiful princess!"

"I was already a beautiful princess," Anke said, and they both laughed.

"You just know they have about a zillion calories, but I don't mind," Skye said, and began eating her pie enthusiastically.

"They _are_ good," I agreed, as a funny feeling settled in my stomach. The spinach pie I'd eaten before had been buttery, flaky, greasy... Skye was right. I did some quick estimations and realized that I had, in a short span of time, eaten about a full day's worth of calories. What had possessed me?

"Are you ok?" Skye asked. "You look a little woozy."

"What's woozy?" Anke asked.

"Like... dizzy," Skye explained, then said to me, "Want to sit down for a second?" She gestured to a bench across the street, facing out at the water.

"I'm ok," I said, but I wobbled a little. "I'm just really tired."

"Well, no offense, but you _look_ tired," Skye said. "Come on, let's sit down for a second."

Taking me by the arm, she marched me across the street and plunked me down on a bench, then she and Anke sat down with me. The bench was situated on a concrete pier, with the beach directly in front of us, accessible by a short stairway down to the sand.

"Do you want some water?" Anke asked. "I can go get you some water."

"No, thank you," I said. "I'll be ok. I hope you don't mind me asking, but where are you from?"

"I don't mind," Anke said. "I am from Berlin."

"That's a great city," I said, in German.

"Oh no, another German!" Skye said, humorously, in English.

Anke reacted in surprise. "Are you German, too?" she asked, speaking that language.

"No, I'm American," I said, still speaking German. "But I learned this language as part of my studies."

"We should talk in English for Skye," Anke said, switching back to English. "But I am glad to meet someone who speaks German. We should have a coffee sometime and talk in German."

"That'd be _sehr gut_," I said. "I love coffee."

"Oh, come on, Anke, _everyone_ speaks German," Skye said. "I wish I did too, but all I know is some Japanese, which really isn't useful here." She looked at me, examining my face. "Are you sure you don't want us to get you some water, hon?"

"No," I said. "Thank you, but I'm ok. Really, I'm just..." I swallowed hard. Inexplicably, tears were coming into my eyes.

"Hey, what's this?" Skye asked. "No crying in paradise!" She patted me on the knee kindly, then added, "I'm just kidding, girl. Get it out if you gotta."

"It's just that everyone's really nice," I said. "Lately I've met a lot of really nice people. Some really horrible people, too, but some incredibly nice people. I wasn't expecting everyone here to be so nice, too."

"Not _everyone_," Skye said. "Some people here are right twats. But yeah, most of 'em are really super sweet."

"I understand what you mean, though," Anke said, solemnly. "When people are so nice, it can be very..." She paused, looking for the right word, then said a word in German.

"Overwhelming," I said, translating for her, and she nodded.

"Well, cheer up, lovely," Skye said, patting my leg. "It's OK. See, your only mistake is being awake at this ungodly hour. I mean, what is it, like 8 or something?" She shuddered.

"You're awake, too," I pointed out.

"_We're_ only awake because some people woke us up when they were coming in," Skye said.

"Coming in?" I repeated. "As in, to your room?"

"We're up at the hostel," Skye said, gesturing vaguely toward the mountains. "Some people take their partying a little seriously. They didn't get in until like, almost 7 am, and they were loud. And I was so hungry that I couldn't fall back asleep once I woke up. Anke's in my room and we both woke up."

"It's my fault," Anke said, with a mischievous smile. "I said 'bakery' to her and then we had to go to the bakery."

"It _is_ your fault," Skye said. "You whore." They both laughed.

"How long have you two been here?" I asked.

Both of them furrowed their brows, thinking. "What is it, like, the first week of June?" Skye asked, and looked around as if the current date might be written on the clouds.

"I'm actually not sure of the date," I said.

"I don't know either," Anke said. She finished the last of her spinach pie and tossed the empty bag in a nearby garbage can. "I think it's a Thursday, though," she offered, brushing crumbs off of her lap.

"Is it?" Skye said, in surprise. "Last I checked it was Monday."

"That was three days ago," Anke said. "That was the day we had the barbecue."

"Well, anyway I got here last week of April," Skye said. "And Anke came first week of May, right?" Anke nodded, and Skye went on. "So we've been here about a month, I think?"

"I don't know," Anke said. "It doesn't matter. How long are _you_ going to stay, Sophia?"

"A few days, I think," I said. "We're not sure yet."

Skye laughed. "You're going to stay longer, then," she said. "Everyone does." Her eyes traveled down to my dirty jeans. "You've been on the road a while, huh? The hostel has a washing machine now. It's like, four euros a load, so maybe you can do a load. Or else you can probably hang stuff up on our clothesline if you want to. No one would care."

"Thanks," I said. "I... I'm not usually this dirty. My friends and I just..." I trailed off.

Skye laughed. "Girrrrrl," she said. "You're talking to someone who can barely get a comb through her hair at this point. You don't have to explain to me."

"It's Plakias," Anke said, agreeing. "No problem." She leaned forward and pulled something out of my hair - another pine needle. She handed it to me without comment, and I put it in my pocket, embarrassed and confused.

"Well," Skye said, standing up and stretching. "You feel better now, hon?"

I stood up and was pleased when my legs didn't wobble. "I think I'm alright, yeah," I said. "I just needed to rest a minute."

"Ok, good then," Skye said, tossing out her empty bakery bag. "Let's get you back to Thetis."

"We can say hello to Yanni, maybe," Anke said, as she got up.

We crossed the street again and began walking along the sidewalk past the cafes and shops.

"So, you two stay at a youth hostel?" I asked.

"I _guess_ it's a youth hostel," Skye said. "Not everyone there is super youthful, though." She laughed.

"But it's a good place," Anke said. "Very clean and nice. They have good breakfast, too, but not until 9 in the morning."

"You can have anything you want, as long as it's eggs," Skye said, wryly. "But it's really cheap. You and your friends can come tomorrow, if you want to."

"Even if we're not staying there?" I asked.

"Sure, of course," Skye said. "Lots of people hang out at the hostel who don't stay there."

"Yes, come visit anytime," Anke said. "You can drink a beer or play some tavli."

"We know all the best hikes," Skye said. "Chris will tell you."

"There's beach stuff you can borrow," Anke said. "And a library up the road – we can show you."

"And free Wi-fi," Skye said. "The password is 'raki'."

"I'll keep that in mind," I said.

I followed the girls down a narrow ally that I hadn't seen before. We passed by some small family homes, whose gardens were strewn with children's toys. The girls nodded politely and exchanged "kali mera"s with the women we passed, many of whom were watering their gardens or just sitting outside on folding chairs.

As we walked, we chatted about the hostel, and the girls told me how to find the place, explaining that there was a series of signs to follow.

"Of course, the signs are out of order," Skye sighed, as we turned left out of the ally onto a street I recognized as the one that led from the bakery to the hotel. "The first sign says the hostel is in 50 meters, then the second says 500 meters, then the third says 250 meters. But if you don't worry about _that_, you can find it ok."

"Why are the signs..." I started to ask.

"Someone was drunk," Anke said, with a twinkle.

That seemed as good an answer as any, I reasoned.

"And here we are," Skye said, as we came up to the now-familiar garden that surrounded the hotel. "See? We told you we'd get you here."

"If you want to visit us at the hostel, you can walk on this road," Anke said, pointing. "It goes like this and then like that..." She made a wavy gesture with her hand. "You will see the signs."

"Thanks so much for your help," I said. "I hope I see you two again soon."

We were starting to say our goodbyes when a voice said, "Hey, down there." We all looked up to see Adrian out on the large balcony, looking down at us. He was wearing a towel around his waist, and nothing else. "Is that my sweetheart I see?" he called.

"Hi," I shouted, glad he hadn't used my name. "This is Skye and Anke," I added, pointing to each girl in turn.

"Hello," Skye said cheerfully, and Anke waved.

"I _knew_ I would like this island," Adrian said. "I'm Jack."

"Hi, Jack!" Skye and Anke said.

"I'll be right up, Jack," I said.

"I'll be waiting," Adrian said, and waved before going back inside.

"_That's_ your _boyfriend_?" Skye asked in a low tone. "Holy shitballs."

"He's very beautiful," Anke said. "Or, I guess I mean handsome? You only say beautiful about women, right?"

"When it comes to Jack, I think you can call him anything you want," I said. "He won't mind."

"You're lucky," Skye sighed. "Seems like at the moment all we've got at the hostel is like, old dudes. Really old dudes. In their 60s or something."

"There's Nick," Anke said. "He's our age."

"He's got his... thing," Skye said, vaguely.

"Well, we don't have to date someone from the hostel," Anke said. "There's Nikos, and Sifi, and George, and Manolis at the pool bar..."

"I don't want to date a Greek boy," Skye said. "They're too macho. Besides, you know about Nikos." She rolled her eyes expressively, and Anke nodded.

I smiled, momentarily envious of these two girls and their normal girl problems. "You can tell me all about the Greek boys some time," I said. "But for now, I need a nap."

"Oh, yes, of course," Skye said. She threw her arms around me in a tight hug. "Feel better, sweetie," she said.

"Yes, feel better," Anke agreed, and gave me a kiss on the cheek.

"Thanks again," I said. "Bye." I was feeling sort of dazzled by their instant friendship. Even Julia and Kristina had taken a little while to warm up to me, and they'd been two of the friendliest girls I'd ever known, up until now.

Anke and Skye said good-bye and began to walk along the road that led away from the waterfront, toward the mountains. I watched for a moment, taking note of the direction they'd gone in case I did decide to visit the hostel. Then I went through the gap in the honeysuckle hedge and found Kahula, standing like a sentry at the gate.

"Hey, kitty," I said, giving him a pat on the head. "Were you waiting to see when I came back?"

He rolled over and began purring.

"You're not a very good guard cat," I said. "I think you'd let anyone in, wouldn't you?"

His response was just more purring, so I gave him a few good-bye pats and straightened up, looking around for Yanni.

I found the old man at the reception desk, where he was busy helping a new customer – speaking to her, I realized, in halting but accurate German. I'd have to pay him later, I decided, and waved as I passed by. He waved back, and the customer, who I'd never seen before, waved as well. I waved back, too.

On my way up the stairs, I tried to think how I could explain to Adrian what had happened in the short time I'd been gone. Already this small town was starting to feel like home to me. But even as I started to smile, thinking about how I'd explain my instant friendship with Anke and Skye, I remembered what had made me so uncomfortable before: the food, and how much of it I'd eaten. I couldn't even begin to explain to myself why I'd had a day's worth of calories – if not more – in just a few minutes.

_Isn't that good? _whispered a familiar voice in my head._ Didn't you decide at one point that you were ready to feed yourself again?_

I shook the thought away and told myself firmly that this wasn't something I wanted to think about. It was just probably an after-effect of using Maeve's magic, and therefore wouldn't happen again any time soon. I would just be careful for the rest of the day and it would be ok. Steadying myself, I walked down the rest of the hallway toward my room.

But I paused before I knocked on the door to the room I was sharing with Adrian. There was something I wanted to do first. I took a few steps down the hall and knocked on Jill's door instead.


	75. III: Honeysuckle and Moonshine

_I told you guys. I'm **NEVER** going to abandon this story. It might take me the rest of my life. The sun may grow dim, my grandchildren may be flying to school on their hoverboards, but I'll finish it some day. Anyway, I recently got pretty inspired and now I know exactly how they're going to deal with being stuck on Crete – I have the next 10-20 chapters sketched out. Then there's a part I'm not sure about, and then there's a long part that I actually have partially written, all the way to the end. So... yeah. RM is going to finish before I do, but she's a full time writer and I'm just a math tutor so I'm doing my best! Thanks for sticking around! _

**Book III: The Other Side**

**Chapter 3: Honeysuckle and Moonshine**

My first knock on the door went unanswered, and I stood listening to the sound of a television babbling away in Greek. I could hear someone pacing around on a creaky floor, and then I heard Jill saying, "Oh, don't do that, Big Hair Lady..."

I knocked again, louder, and this time, Jill called "Coming!" and the babble of television noises stopped. Then the door opened, and there was Jill, smelling and looking fresh from the shower, wearing the jean skirt and purple t-shirt that Eddie had gotten for her. Neither item looked like something she would have picked out for herself, but I had to give Eddie points for trying.

"Hey, Syd," Jill said, with a big smile, as she gestured me to come in. "I thought you'd be Eddie. But I'm happy to see you too, of course. What's up?"

"Eddie's still out doing his guardian thing," I said, closing the door behind me. "I just wanted to check on you before I lay down for a nap. Are you OK?"

"I feel _great_," she enthused. "I just took the world's best shower. Oh, it feels so good to be clean! And my belly is full" – she patted it affectionately – "and everyone's alive and no one hates me and Eddie likes me after all!" She frowned a little. "Or loves me, apparently. That's a little weird. But I'm... getting used to it."

"I guess you guys have a lot to talk about," I said.

"I guess," she said. "Do _you_ have any idea why he didn't tell me this whole time?"

"Something about you being a princess and being too good for him," I said.

"Uggghhhh," she said. "I'm not even a princess, I'm just a girl whose biological father was a cheater and it happens that he had an important last name, like, as if this whole royalty thing even matters, I mean, it's so dumb to think that some people are more important than others just because of their last name." She sighed. "And then to have Eddie think he's not good enough for me, it's such a mess. I wish I was still just Jill. Not Jillian Dragomir, just... me. The old me."

"Then you never would have gotten dragged into any of this," I said.

"That'd be nice," she said, then added, thoughtfully, "But then I never would have met you, or gotten to go to Crete, or kissed Eddie in a garden full of flowers..."

"I'm glad I make the list of good things," I said, smiling.

"Of _course_ you do," she said. "You're one of the best things." Her smile faded a little as she went on. "I'm so sorry about what happened to you, Sydney. I heard what that awful Strigoi said. It sounds... just... like... awful. Did they really... um... torture you?"

"Yes," I said. "It was horrible. But Adrian healed me, and Eddie and Adrian helped rescue me. I'm OK now."

She looked down at my arm, where the biggest scar still was clearly visible. "Why didn't Adrian heal that big scar?"

"I... I asked him not to."

I expected her to ask me why, but she didn't. She just sat down next to me and put her arm around me. I leaned my head on her bony shoulder. I was so tired.

"Do you realize," she said, "that this is the first time we've been like, talking, just us two, since the, um, the... kidnapping? Feels weird to call it that but I mean that's what it was I guess..."

"Yeah," I said. "I missed you." My voice tightened as I spoke and I felt the full weight of it – how much I really _had_ missed my cheerful and sweet friend.

"I missed you too, Syd," Jill said.

I sat up straight again so that I could see her face. "Back at the... place I was," I said, "when I was kind of out of it, I had this sort of... I don't know, a hallucination I guess, and I thought you were there talking to me, but you were angry at me for not rescuing you. It was awful. I felt like it was all my fault."

"Oh, Syd," Jill said, standing up and starting to pace again. "I was thinking the same thing, but like, reversed. I thought you guys were dead and that it was all my fault, because you and Eddie and Adrian only got dragged out to California because of me in the first place. I'm so glad you're OK, and so grateful you came for me."

Both of us wiped at our eyes a little, then we looked at each other and for some reason, we laughed. Maybe it was just that on this bright sunny day, in this safe clean little hotel room, our fears seemed long ago and far away.

"But you were fine without us," I said. "Considering how well you handled things during the battle, I think maybe you would have gotten out of there on your own."

"I _might_ have gotten out of there," Jill said, thoughtfully, as she continued to pace. "But maybe... not alive. You know?"

I nodded. I did know.

"And I know you guys did your best," she said. "So don't feel bad that you couldn't get there sooner. The only thing I sort of wonder about is...um..." She sighed. "Eddie says you guys stayed for a while with that girl Maeve, while Adrian was healing and you were trying to find me, right? But like... I mean..." She pouted. "What was the deal with her? Eddie seems to have a lot of nice things to say about her."

"Don't worry," I said, smiling. "Eddie has a lot more nice things to say about _you_. Did you already forget what he said?"

Jill smiled. "No, of course not."

"And for the record, Maeve lives with her boyfriend, whom she's nuts about. She thought Eddie was handsome and nice, but that's about as far as it went. Besides, I think _most_ people would agree that Eddie is handsome and nice."

Jill looked over at me sharply. "Do _you_ think he's handsome and nice?"

"Do you think _Adrian_ is handsome and nice?" I retorted.

Jill's eyes widened, then she grinned. "Touche," she said.

"Anyway, we should talk about all this later," I said. "What I wanted to ask you was whether you still have Vigil in your system. Do you think you're going to be able to sleep?"

Jill stopped pacing and stared at me. "Oh, God, Sydney, it's awful," she said. "I was just thinking about that when you knocked on the door, like, how am I going to sleep when I feel like this? It feels like I drank about a hundred cups of coffee or something. I can't sit still. I can't even close my eyes. It's like my eyelids are Venetian blinds and they keep springing open."

I nodded. "I thought you might feel like that," I said, getting up. "I'll go make you the antidote."

"There's an antidote?" Jill said, with obvious relief. She threw her arms around me in a tight hug.

"There is, and if you let go of me, I'll go make it for you!" I said, laughing.

"Oh, you're the best best best best best, Sydney!" Jill said, still hugging me.

"I'm just doing my job," I said.

"Sure, whatever," Jill said, letting go at last. She immediately began pacing again. "Will it take long?"

"Just a few minutes, I think," I said. "I'll be right back."

She nodded, and I ducked out of the room and went down the hall to my own room. There was no reply to my knock, so I opened the door slowly, saying, "Hello?"

Adrian leaped out from behind the door and pulled me into his arms, closing the door behind us. "Hello," he murmured in my ear, between kisses. "Where were you for so long? I missed you."

"I was talking to Jill," I said, reaching up to stroke his hair, which was still wet from his shower. He was still wearing only a towel, and it was a very _small_ towel.

"Weren't you saying something before about wanting to go to bed?" Adrian murmured.

"I have to make something for Jill first," I said. "I'm so glad I thought to bring my alchemist supplies, even if they did take up so much room in our bags."

"What's going on with Jill?" Adrian asked, his tone changing instantly from amorous to concerned.

"She still has all that Vigil in her system and she feels awful."

"_Vigil_," Adrian repeated, and then let out a series of pretty creative swears as I began fumbling through our backpacks to find some of the supplies I'd need. I'd put some in Adrian's bag and some in my own, and the more easily replaceable stuff I'd left behind.

"That's how I feel about Vigil, too," I said. I found my one clean change of clothes and set it to the side, then kept looking for the ingredients. "But maybe we should be grateful to it. It helped Jill's magic power held out far longer than it would have otherwsie. Honestly, in the right doses, it's pretty useful stuff."

"I guess," Adrian said. "But I'll never forget how you looked that first night I found you, with your aura all sorts of weird colors and your arms..." He trailed off and swallowed loudly.

"Let's not talk about it," I said, setting the ingredients down on the one small table in the room. "It's behind us now."

"When this is all over, maybe you should talk about it with someone," Adrian said. He sat down on the bed, watching me work.

"You mean a therapist," I said as I started to measure and stir.

"Yes," Adrian said. "I think I might need one too, actually."

I looked over at him to see if he was kidding, but as far as I could tell, he wasn't. "Should we go together?" I suggested, trying to smile. "The four of us?"

"Maybe," Adrian said. "We could order a pizza, have a good time." He gave me a wan smile.

"Sounds like a party," I said, then paused to try to remember the exact order of the steps that Joe had taken when he'd made me the antidote. Thinking of Joe gave me a pang of regret, but I told myself sternly that I shouldn't think about him. He'd made his own choices, after all.

"But seriously, Sydney," Adrian said, and I looked up at him, surprised that he'd called me by my first name. "I'm worried about you."

"Well, don't be," I said. "I'm fine. I just used up the last of my pulverized white quartz, so you can worry about that instead."

He nodded, then was quiet for a while as I continued to measure and stir. When I looked up, he was still watching me with an affectionate look on his face. "I like watching you work," he said, by way of explanation. "You look even prettier when you're doing your thing, you know?"

I ran my fingers through my hair self-consciously. "I must look terrible," I said. "I'm all covered in who-knows-what from that... that... _dungeon_."

Adrian shook his head. "You're beautiful," he said. "When you're making stuff, you get this look of concentration on your face, and you just glow. I love that. I love _you_."

I couldn't help but smile. "Oh," I said. "Thanks." I stirred the mixture six times, counter-clockwise, then looked back at him. "I guess I know what you mean. You get this look of concentration when you're painting that's... very charming."

"Are you charmed by it?" Adrian asked.

"Hopelessly," I said.

"Good," he said.

I nodded. "Anyway, I'm all done." I held up the finished product. "Let me give this to Jill before she explodes."

Adrian's eyes widened. "Vigil can make people explode?"

I was about to answer when I realized he was kidding. I grinned, promised him I'd be back soon, and then went back to Jill's room and knocked on the door.

"It's unlocked," Jill called, and I came in to find her pacing back and forth, watching something on the old-fashioned cathode ray TV in the corner of the room.

"What on earth are you watching?" I asked, staring at the screen. Two very fashionable dressed and highly made-up women were arguing intensely in Greek, though their lips seemed to be forming Spanish words.

"I have no idea," Jill said, cheerfully. "I think it's a Mexican _telenovela_, dubbed into Greek. I don't understand a word, but I kind of like it anyway. I'm making up my own plot. I think that lady with the really big hair is in love with a ghost or something. I don't know for sure."

"Do you want to watch the rest before you go to sleep?" I asked, uncertain.

"Oh, God no," Jill said. "Is that the antidote?" She gestured to the small bottle in my hand.

"Yes," I said. "I think that after you drink it, you're going to pretty much pass right out, so you might want to get into bed."

Jill switched off the TV and lay down while I got her a glass of water from the bathroom sink. She sniffed at the water, but I reassured her that Cretan water was totally safe.

"I'm a Moroi," she reminded me with a smile. "I could drink straight out of a sewer and not get sick. Not that I would, obviously because that's gross, oh my god, can you even imagine...?" Seeing the look on my face, she added, "Sorry I even said that. I think I'm just really tired, Sydney."

I sat down near her on the bed, then handed her the antidote and helped her swirl it counter-clockwise six times to activate the calming properties of the ingredients. She drank it down quickly, then immediately drank the glass of water I'd gotten her to get the taste out of her mouth.

"Wow," she said. "That was gross." Her eyes widened. "I mean, thank you, though. Even if it's gross, I'm glad you made it for me. I'm glad that there even _is_ an antidote for that... stuff."

"Of course there is," I said. "There's an antidote for everything. And I know how awful Vigil is when you want to sleep. Trust me, I know."

Jill lay back on the pillows, looking at me. "Have you taken it?" she asked.

"They gave it to me, back at... where I was," I said.

"They forced you to drink it?"

"They injected me with it," I said, and it came out in a whisper.

"Why did they do that?"

"They didn't want me to fall asleep," I said. "Or pass out. Like, when they were..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

Jill's eyes filled with tears. She looked away from me for a moment, then said in a tight voice, "I really _hate_ those guys."

"I hate them, too," I said.

"If I ever get the chance, I'm going to do something really mean to them," Jill said. Her eyes were starting to look heavier already. "I can't kill them without turning into a Strigoi, so maybe I'll just..." She blinked heavily. "Maybe I'll just mail them some poop. Like, lots of poop. All the poop in the world."

"Sounds good to me," I said, smiling. "There's some goat poop on the streets here. We could start collecting it."

Jill smiled a little, then paused, blinking. "Wow," she said. "That stuff is really working." She rolled her head around to look at me. "Hey, Syd. Is there really an antidote for _everything_?"

"Pretty much," I said.

"Not _everything_," Jill said. "Can't be."

"Not everything," I agreed.

"No antidote to love," Jill said. "Not that I want one."

"Me either," I said. "Not anymore, anyway."

Jill smiled. "I'm glad," she said. "It's still sort of weird to see you and Adrian being all couple-y, even though I got used to seeing it through Adrian's head."

"I'm not even that used to it myself," I said.

"We should catch up," Jill said, taking my hand clumsily. "Let's ditch the boys later and talk. Girl talk. I can paint your nails again. They're all messed up."

"It's a date," I said.

"I think you're my best friend," Jill said. Her words sounded a little slurred. "Isn't that weird? I mean, Eddie's my friend too, and Adrian, but they're guys. It's different."

"Definitely," I said.

"I never thought I'd be best friends with a human," she said. "It's so weird."

"For me too."

"Hey Syd," she said. "Am I _your_ best friend? I mean, your best friend who's a girl?"

"Of course you are," I said.

She smiled. "Good," she said. Then her hand went limp in mine, and her eyes fell closed. I gave her a kiss on the forehead, spread a sheet over her – a blanket would have been too warm, I thought – then closed the wooden shades and turned out the lights before I left.

When I got back to my room, Adrian was waiting for me in bed. He patted the space next to him seductively.

"Are you going to stay in that towel all day?" I asked.

"Getting dressed is over-rated."

"And yet, it's something people do nearly every day," I said.

"Not people who are on their honeymoon," Adrian said. "They spend a lot of time _sans_ clothing."

"We're not on our honeymoon," I said.

"Then let's consider this a pre-honeymoon," Adrian said. "We can get hitched when we get back to the States."

"I'm only 19," I said. "I think marriage can wait a bit."

"Hmm," Adrian said. "What's the date today?"

"I really don't know," I said. "Why?"

Adrian started to answer, but just then there was a knock on the door and a soft male voice said, "_Ya sas_?"

Adrian grabbed his clothes and ducked into the bathroom to get dressed while I answered the door. Yanni, the old man who ran the hotel, was there, carrying a tray and smiling wide.

"Happy honeymoon," Yanni said, as I stood aside to let him in. "I bring this for good luck."

"Thank you," I said. "I thought you were coming for the money..."

"It's ok," Yanni said, shaking his head dismissively. "No problem. Your husband, he is...?"

"Right here," Adrian said, coming out of the bathroom, dressed again in his dirty jeans and t-shirt. "Hello there, sir! What's all this?"

"Good luck raki," Yanni said. "Let's go outside, yes?"

Adrian opened the door to the balcony so that Yanni could lead us outside. The old man placed the tray down on the circular patio table with a flourish, and we all looked down at the goodies. There were two small glasses of orange juice, three tiny shot glasses filled with a clear liquid, a small bottle with a cork in it, a bowl of grapes, and a plate with four little pistachio cookies. There was also a jelly jar with some branches of _Lonicera periclymenum_ set in water. They smelled heavenly.

Adrian sniffed at one of the shot glasses and raised an eyebrow. Yanni saw the expression and smiled. "This is raki," the man said. "You know it?"

"Never had it," Adrian said. "Is it like Italian grappa?"

Yanni made a face. "No," he said. "Very different. It's from Kriti. It's good. Good for everything." His smile turned proud. "I make myself. I make best raki."

"You make it yourself?" Adrian said. "That's great, man! What's it made out of? Potatoes?"

Yanni frowned. "_Oshee_," he said. "No, no. Grapes. First, we make wine, and then we make raki."

"You take what's leftover from the wine making, and keep going until it's this stuff?" Adrian asked. Yanni nodded, and Adrian turned to me. "Sa- sweetheart! I think this stuff is Cretan moonshine!"

"Moon, yes," Yanni said, nodding. "For your honeymoon."

I didn't have the heart to correct Yanni's misunderstanding, so I gestured to the flowers. "And the English name for these flowers is honeysuckle," I said. "Also good for honeymoons."

The man's smile grew. "Good!" he said. "Honeysuckle, yes! And now, we drink!"

"Oh, no," I murmured.

"Oh _yes_," Adrian said.

"Take, take," Yanni said, handing Adrian and me each a small glass of the clear liquid. He kept the third glass for himself.

"I don't really drink," I said, sniffing the shot. There was a scent coming from it that was a little like honeydew melon and a little like rubbing alcohol. "And isn't it still only like, 8 or 9 in the morning?"

"It's OK, it's just raki," Yanni said. "It's good for you. Breakfast, dinner, it's OK. Vitameena, vitameena!"

"You heard the man, sweetheart," Adrian said. "It has vitamins in it. Come on." He looked over at Yanni. "How do you say 'cheers' in Greek?"

"We say, _ya mas_," Yanni said. "It means, to us."

"_Ya mas_," Adrian and I said, obediently. We each raised our shot glass, and then, because there was nothing else I could do, I tipped my head back and swallowed the shot of raki as quickly as I could.

It was not unlike swallowing fire. I gasped and shuddered, and Adrian passed me a handful of grapes, which I ate gratefully.

"Bravo!" Yanni said.

"Bravo!" Adrian repeated.

"More?" Yanni suggested, pointing to the small bottle, which, I realized, contained more of the moonshine.

"No, thank you," I said, emphatically.

"We'll save it for later," Adrian said, clapping the old man on the shoulder. "But thank you. You make good raki, sir!"

"Best raki in Plakias," said the man. "Gives good luck. Happy wedding, good love, good life."

"_Efhareesto_," I said.

"_Kali mera_," Adrian said.

"Ah, you speak Greek so well!" Yanni said. "Bravo!" He started to head back inside, but Adrian stopped him with a gentle hand on the arm.

"Sir," he said. "Do you know the date today?"

"June five," Yanni said.

"Thank you," Adrian said. "I just was wondering."

Yanni turned to leave again, but I followed after him to give him the money for the rooms. He seemed a little surprised, but thanked me with a polite nod of the head and left.

When he was gone, Adrian and I sat back down at the table on the balcony, and Adrian poured us each another shot of the fiery raki from the small glass bottle. I groaned.

"Let's drink to our success," Adrian said. "Come on, it's cultural."

"We should wait for Jill and Eddie," I said. "Share it with them."

"Jill's too young for this stuff, and Eddie won't want any," Adrian said. "Besides, it's a present for us from the man. Good luck for a good marriage."

"We're not married," I said.

"_Yet_," Adrian said.

"I never did a shot before today," I said.

"And I never teleported halfway across the world before today," Adrian said. He grinned, then he added, in a gentler tone, "You don't have to if you really don't want to."

I looked at him, then sighed. "Oh, what the heck," I said. "When in Crete, do as the Cretans do." We tipped the shots back, and then I crammed a few grapes into my mouth. If this was what drinking alcohol was all about, I really couldn't see the allure.

"Have a few cookies, too," Adrian said, meeting my eyes, and so I did. They were delicious, of course.

We pulled our chairs closer together, then sat looking up at the mountainside, munching on the grapes and cookies. There were a few other villages visible up the mountain, one slightly to the east and one slightly to the west. Directly in front of us was a gorge, probably formed by a river, and I theorized that the strong wind we'd noticed might be due to the mountains funneling the air straight toward the town.

"So, how do you say 'thank you' in Greek again?" Adrian asked, after a little while. "It's so hard to say..."

"Ef-ha-ree-STO," I said.

"It sounds like you're saying 'Eff-Harry-Stowe'," Adrian said. "I keep wondering what Harry Stowe did to piss everyone off all the time. It's like, 'I'm fine with Harry Potter, but that Harry Stowe? Fuck him!"

"That isn't funny at all," I said, giggling.

"You know what else isn't funny?" Adrian said. He pointed down at the street, where we could see two guys about our age walking along in the same direction that Skye and Anke had gone earlier. One guy was on the shorter side, with thick brown hair down past his shoulders. The other one was tall and gangly, as pale as a Moroi, with buzzed hair and deep-set eyes. What had obviously grabbed Adrian's attention was the fact that the long-haired guy was inexplicably leading a chicken behind him on a leash. "_That's_ definitely not funny," Adrian said. "Not at all."

I clapped a hand over my mouth. "_What_?" I said, through my hand, as laughter began bubbling up through me. "What is _happening_?"

"He's walking his chicken," Adrian said, softly, and began laughing too.

The taller guy looked up at us. "Hey," he called. "You laughing at us?" He had an American accent.

The long-haired guy put his free hand on his friend's arm. "It's OK, Nick," he said. "They _should_ laugh. It's pretty funny." He waved at us. "She's a gift for my _ya-ya,_" he called. "I can't figure out any other way to bring her along. She didn't like being in the bag, so..." He shrugged.

"She doesn't like crossing roads?" Adrian called down.

The long-haired guy laughed. "No," he said. "She's a weird chicken."

The taller guy, Nick, had relaxed a little by now. "Where're you guys from?" he called.

"Philadelphia," Adrian said. "You?"

"New York," Nick said. "And he's from Boston. Sort of."

"East Coast represent," the long-haired guy said. "Come by the hostel sometime, we can all hang out. Do you know where it is?"

"We know," I said. "Anke and Skye gave us directions."

Nick's face lit up. "You know Skye and Anke?"

"They're old friends of ours," Adrian said. "I'm Jack, and this is..." He trailed off.

"Sophia," I supplied.

"Well, I'm Nick, and he's JD," Nick said.

The long-haired guy, JD, waved at us, and his chicken squawked as if to say hello as well. "Come by any time," JD said. "I don't actually live at the hostel, but I'm there a lot."

"We'll stop by," Adrian said. "It sounds like fun."

The guys waved good-bye, and we watched them make their slow progress up the road with the uncooperative chicken.

"How is it that after spending a few hours here, we have more friends than we made the whole time we lived in Palm Springs?" Adrian asked, as they faded from view.

I shrugged. "I have no idea," I said. "I don't understand how any of this works." And then I yawned, and Adrian yawned too.

"Come on, wifey," Adrian said, standing up. "Let's go take a nap." He winked.

"I'm not your wife," I said, as I got up. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Well, we did recently exchange rings," Adrian said. He picked up the tray.

"Yes, but..."

"Anyway, it just seemed like a good story. People like newlyweds."

I opened the door to the room for us and we both went inside. "People might think we're too young to be getting married," I said.

"Nah," Adrian said, putting the tray down on the table. He gestured around the room. "Because of my story, we got this big room with a big balcony. Is Eddie and Jill's room as nice as this?"

"No," I conceded.

"And I bet Yanni didn't give them raki."

"Lucky them," I said, and Adrian laughed.

"I don't mind the stuff," he said. "It sure gets the job done." He sat down heavily on the bed and patted the space next to him. "Come on, Sage. Let's 'take a nap'." He held up his fingers to make air-quotes around the words.

"I need a shower first," I said.

Adrian started to say something, paused, started to say something else, stopped, then finally nodded. "OK," he said. "I guess that wouldn't be the worst idea in the world."

I laughed. "I stink, don't I?"

"No," he said. "I mean, only a little. I don't mind too much."

I leaned down to kiss his cheek. "I'll see you in a few minutes," I said, and went into the bathroom. As I got undressed, I stared at myself in the mirror, and was more than a little embarassed to realize just how dirty my face was. Still, on the plus side, all that dirt had effectively covered up my alchemist tattoo. I made a mental note to pick up some make up as soon as possible, washed up as quickly as I could, and went back out to the main room wrapped in a towel.

The wooden shutters were closed and the light was off. The room was cool and dark and smelled of honeysuckle. And Adrian was fast asleep, sprawled out naked on the bed in what had probably started out as a very seductive pose. I allowed myself a few long moments to drink in the sight of him, then crawled into bed, leaving my towel on the floor. I scootched over close to him, then leaned my head on his chest and listened to his heart beat for a few moments. It was slow and reassuring at first, and then it spiked suddenly. I raised my head to find Adrian wide awake and looking at me.

"Hi," he said. "Guess I fell asleep for a minute."

"Guess you did," I said.

"But I'm awake now, and I can't help but notice that you're naked, Sage," he said. He ran a finger along my spine.

"You're very observant," I said.

"I'm naked too," he said. "Did you notice that?"

"I think I did notice that," I said.

"This is good," he said, imitating Yanni affectionately. "Good honeymoon. Good love. Good life."

I smiled. "It is good," I said. "Things are good. We made it."

He traced a line down my face and over my lips with his fingertip. "You saved us all."

"It was a group effort," I said.

"Maybe," he said. "In any case, I like it here. Let's stay a while."

"OK," I said, yawning again.

He pulled me closer, making little contented noises deep in his throat. "Is JB ok?" he asked softly.

"She fell right asleep once she drank the antidote," I said. "Do you think Eddie's back yet?"

"I heard him in the hallway before," Adrian said. "He came back while Yanni was here."

"That's good," I said, my eyes starting to close. "Ohhh, I'm so tired."

"Then let's sleep," Adrian said.

"Definitely," I said. I kissed the crook of his arm. "Do you think we'll wake up by the afternoon?"

"We'll wake up," Adrian said. "And if we don't, Captain Bringdown Castile will wake us up for sure." He leaned over to kiss my cheek.

I rolled over a little so that we could look at each other, then kissed him lightly on the mouth. "Good night," I said.

"Good night," he said. We leaned in for another quick kiss, and then another one.

"Good night," I said again, and kissed him again. Adrian kissed my neck, very softly. I inhaled deeply. "Is this a good idea?" I whispered.

"Is _what_ a good idea?" Adrian murmured, and bit very gently on my neck, not using his fangs.

"This," I breathed.

"I think it's a very good idea," Adrian replied. "I think we should have as much sex as we possibly can, in case the bad guys come for us tomorrow."

"There's a certain logic to that," I whispered.

"Yes," Adrian said, between kisses. "I'm very logical."

"Oh," I whispered, a moment later. "What about... I mean, we'll need a..."

"Oh, yeah," Adrian said. He got out of bed suddenly, picked his pants up off the floor, and pulled his wallet out of his jeans pockets triumphantly. "Ha!" he said, digging through the wallet and pulling out a small square packet. "It's my last one."

"Then, I'll have to get us some more when I go out for supplies later," I said. "We're going to be here for at least a day or two, so I'll look for a 10-pack."

"I knew I liked you," Adrian growled, and rolled over on top of me.

* * *

><p>"Sydney."<p>

I groaned and buried my face in the pillow.

"Sydney? Please wake up."

The urgency in Adrian's voice made me open my eyes. We'd fallen asleep right after we'd made love, but now he was looking at me with wide-open eyes. "What's wrong?" I asked, but I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

"I had a bad dream," Adrian whispered. "I woke up. I don't know. It hurts. I'm scared. What if they come for us?"

"They won't," I said. "They don't know where we are."

"My bullet wounds are bleeding," Adrian whispered, and gestured to his chest, which was as clean and white as it had been when he got out of the shower.

"No," I said. "You're not bleeding. I think..." I searched for the right words.

"It's spirit," Adrian said. "Right? It's spirit? I'm going crazy again?"

"You're not crazy," I said. "You worked so hard to help us, and now you're paying the price. Again."

"I hate this," he whispered. "I'm so scared. Nothing makes sense." He put his head down on my chest. "Sydney," he said. "Help me. Please help me."

"Of course I'll help you," I whispered. I stroked his hair and closed my eyes, trying to picture Adrian's spirit, spotted with dark energy. I felt something catch, and something give way. I imagined the darkness blowing away in the wind and floating away into the sky. I opened my eyes and saw Adrian staring at me in wonder.

"Thanks," he whispered. "I feel a lot better."

"You're welcome," I murmured.

I waited for him to point out that I'd healed him without going to the forest first. I waited for him to tease me and tell me that I was just as magical as he was. But he didn't. He just kissed me on the cheek and told me he loved me. It was only after he fell asleep that I realized that this had been the first time that he'd asked me to help him with the spirit darkness, and then accepted that help without complaint.

I watched him sleep for a little while, and then got up and put on my clean t-shirt, underwear, and shorts. I liked the feeling of being naked with Adrian, but I was nervous that someone might knock on the door at any moment. I sighed as I got dressed again. "Someday, this will be all over," I muttered to myself. "And then Adrian and I will be able to stay as naked as we want for as long as we want."

I got back into bed and cuddled up to Adrian. Asleep, he looked so fragile somehow, with his long eyelashes and pale skin. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, he'd gone into battle against a hoard of evil monsters. It was hard to believe that just a few hours ago, _I_ had gone into battle against a hoard of evil monsters. I looked heavenward and prayed for a while, a long and sincere prayer of thanks. And then I slipped back into sleep.


End file.
